


The Kitchens

by lumosinlove



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Eventual Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, First Time Blow Jobs, Grinding, Harry Potter AU, M/M, Mention of abuse, Minor James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Pining, Remus x Sirius, SUMMER VIBES MAN SUMMER VIBES, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship, WOO, Wolfstar AU, Wolfstar smut, fluffy smut honestly, i just can't stay away from the angst can i, nope - Freeform, p i n i n g, remus lupin - Freeform, royal!AU, sirius black - Freeform, sirius x remus, summer at the kingdom, wolfstar, wolfstar angst, wolfstar fluff, wolfstar royal!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2018-10-12 03:09:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 59,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10480767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosinlove/pseuds/lumosinlove
Summary: Sirius and Remus: A king and a commoner from two different worlds who will break all the rules for love.





	1. part i

Sirius set out for the West parlor, wondering if maybe he could sleep a while on one of the couches. His bare feet were cool against the July-warmed stone, even at night. He wished he could enjoy this more, like he usually did, with the absence of prying eyes. But his head ached, spinning with thoughts of the ever-looming events that summer’s end promised. There were fall’s many festivals, hunting trips. And among these things, the promise of a bride. He’d be eighteen in November. He’d known what eighteen meant for as long as he could remember. It was inevitable, a pressing weight on his chest. He could hear his mother’s voice in his head: _Alliances are needed, Sirius. You’ll be a king one day and you’ll need a powerful Queen at your side. And besides, fall weddings are lucky._

Sirius rubbed at his eyes, huffing as he turned blindly into the room he knew to well, only to find it bathed in a soft warm glow, not dark and quiet like he’d expected. He let his hand drop to his side, taken off guard by the light-soaked walls, and he froze. Because there was a boy there. His heels were coming out of his shoes as he crouched over the softly roasting coals of the beginning of one of the Black castle’s many fires. Sirius realized too late that he’d been standing there too long to make any sort of proper introduction.

Of all the words in his grand vocabulary, his mind decided to settle on, “Oh.”

The boy jumped. He went to stand up too fast and ended up thumping his head painfully against the brick under edge of the fireplace. Sirius cursed at the same time the boy did.

“Christ James, I told you to do the _East_ Wing-“

The boy spoke at the same time that he turned. He cut off just as he saw Sirius.

“Oh.” He inhaled sharply, eyes widening for a fraction of a second, “My Lord. I didn’t realize…”

And Sirius watched it happen, just as it always did. He watched the boy’s back straighten, he watched the front go up.

Sirius huffed, annoyed. He made his way around the sofa slowly, fingers trailing against the plush fabric as he did, “Didn’t realize I’d be in my own castle?”

The boy frowned. He looked like he wanted to narrow his eyes but thought better of it, “Not at these hours. My Lord.” He added the last part hastily, half-heartedly, and a bit heatedly.

“I’d ask you the same question.” Sirius did narrow his eyes. He was allowed to.

The boy looked like he was biting his tongue before he spoke, “I was to light the fires this morning, my Lord.”

Sirius froze, expression flickering, “Morning?”

The boy glanced out the window briefly, “Morning, my Lord.”

Sirius followed his eyes, only to see that it was morning. He blinked at the dawning sky, the world still pink, and cleared his throat, “Oh.”

“Have-“ The boy hesitated until Sirius looked back at him. His expression slightly softer but guarded still, “have you been out all night? Around the castle? My Lord.”

Sirius hesitated, then sighed, rubbing his face, “You don’t have to add that after every sentence.” He pressed his thumbs into his eyes, as if trying to rub the fatigue out, before looking back at the boy. He had flour on his cheek, a bit of ash on his temple.

“Yes.” He looked back out the window, “I guess so.”

He didn’t think he’d been walking all night and yet there was the sun, peaking over the mountains.

The boy crouched down, scraping the iron fire poker back up and prodding at the coals with it, “Sometime on your mind, my Lord?”

Sirius felt annoyance flare up again, “I said-“

But he stopped, words catching in his throat. He shouldn’t admit it—really he _couldn’t_ admit it—not out loud anyways—but, now that he was looking, really looking, the boy was a bit of a beautiful sight. Maybe it was just the firelight, or lack of sleep, but the thought sprang to the front of Sirius’ mind so quickly he just… thought it.

He shifted, clearing his throat, “No.” He meant to turn away, maybe leave, but instead he sat down, “No. I simply lost track of time.”

The fire light made the boy’s eyes look like a a pot of melting amber when he turned towards Sirius, expression forwardly quizzical, “Yes, my Lord.”

Sirius frowned, “Do you not know my name?”

The boy raised an eye brow, “My Lord?”

“Do you not. Know my name.” Sirius repeated, “Is that why you refuse to use it, even upon my request?”

It was still quite dark, but Sirius could have sworn the boy flushed. He turned back to poking the fire.

“You know, you aren’t doing that right.” Sirius continued when he still didn’t answer.

The boy kept poking, not looking away, “I’m not usually in charge of the fires.” He mumbled.

Sirius leaned forward, “No, you see, they aren’t going to stay alight like that. Didn’t you- no, stop, stop.” Sirius swiftly moved to crouch next to the boy, putting his hand over his on the poker, “Watch. You need it to be…” He guided their hands to push the embers towards the center, “Like such. That way the smoke goes up and the heat goes out. See now?”

“I… Yes. How did you…”

Sirius shrugged, “It’s from hunting trips, really. Probably the only useful survival skill I know. Proves I’m not completely helpless.”

“That’s not what James says.”

Sirius did his best to look aghast but it ended as more of a smile, surprising himself, “That’s how you address your superiors?”

The boy looked like he was trying not to smile too, “A moment ago you were begging me to call you Sirius.”

Sirius turned sharply away from the coals, taken off guard. He tightened his grip on the iron. It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard his name from a servant’s mouth before. James, his valet, called him Sirius. He had just never heard his name quite like _that_. Soft, gentile. The way this boy said it… it almost made him sound like a good person.

Sirius continued with the fire, “So the truth is out. You do know my name.”

The boy wrapped his arms around his knees, watching the coals. His sandy hair flopped nicely into his eyes, “Everyone in the world probably knows your name.”

Sirius laughed softly, and he found that it lightened the heavy feeling in his chest considerably, “Well. I think you’re sorely misjudging the size of the world.”

The boy looked at him, features extraordinarily soft in the firelight. Sirius’ heart caught.

“That wouldn’t surprise me.” He said quietly, “It isn’t like I’ve seen any of it.”

“S’not that great, really.” Sirius said softly. It was, but Sirius wasn’t about to say that. He cleared his throat instead, “Well, there’s the fire for you-“

He cut himself off again, this time with a curse. He tumbled back on his heels, the poker clattering to the floor, his left hand burning.

“Fuck-“ He unclenched his fist, seeing an angry red mark already forming across his knuckles.

The boy cursed, “Shit, the coals. I forgot to put the gate up- one rolled out- I- your highness-“

“I’m fine,” Sirius grit his teeth, “It’s just a little hot, I-“

“Oh come off it, that’s more than a little hot-” The second the words were out of the boy’s mouth his eyes were wide, “Oh god. I-“

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the _your highness_ , at the horror on the boy’s face when he’d slipped and spoken to Sirius like a normal person.

The boy pressed his lips together, the hollows of his cheeks pink. He directed his gaze to Sirius’ injured hand, “We should really get something for that.”

Sirius nodded, “You can rouse Pomfrey for me.”

The boy stood, “I think I can help you, actually… if you like.” He offered Sirius a hesitant hand.

Sirius took it. He didn’t even think about it, he just let this boy pull him up, cradling his injured one to his chest, “I don’t even know your name.”

The boy arched an eyebrow, “I’m sure I can help either way.”

Sirius stretched his knuckles hesitantly, then flinched, “What’s your name?” He asked again. 

The boy’s face fell a fraction, and Sirius suddenly realized he had been trying to be friendly, maybe funny even, and Sirius had taken it for disrespect.

“Remus.” He said shortly, “It’s Remus.” He turned, leading the way out of the room.

“Like the myth?” Sirius followed him.

“What myth?”

“The Roman one. With the wolf. The founding of Rome, surely you know it.”

Remus glanced behind him, “Sorry, no.”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, “Didn’t you learn it in school?”

Remus raised an eyebrow as Sirius fell into stride with him, “You’re assuming I went to school.”

Sirius’ steps faltered, “I- oh.”

“Not all of us grow up in castles, not to mention princes.”

Sirius glanced at Remus’ profile as they walked down the servant’s staircase. It was hard to read. He’d been the one trying to lighten the mood that time and, once again, they’d misunderstood each other.

“I didn’t mean any offense.” Sirius offered.

Remus sent him a small smile, “And yet…”

Sirius suddenly felt very aware of his words, his accent, even his attire, all in comparison to Remus. He felt overdressed in his maroon robe, the gold embroidery feeling flashy and unnecessary next to Remus’ plain white shirt, littered with stains from work.

Remus shook his head gently at him as they entered the kitchen, “I’m joking. It’s alright, you didn’t know.” he nodded towards the countertop, “sit there.”

Sirius rubbed at the back of his neck, “I suppose I should have known…” His eyes widened, “I mean-“

Remus rolled his eyes, “Sit.”

“-not that I would assume you didn’t have an education-“

“ _Sit_ , Sirius.”

Sirius pushed himself up onto the counter, silently kicking himself. Silently relishing the way Remus said his name. He watched wordlessly as Remus set ingredients out on the counter next to him. Honey, and a lemon.

“Well… this is odd.”

Remus looked at Sirius, “You’ve never seen this before?”

Sirius shook his head.

Remus smirked, slicing the lemon in half effortlessly, barely even glancing down, “Well, you’re obviously not learning everything with that education of yours, are you?”

Sirius straightened a little, almost prepared to snap a retort, but he caught onto the joke this time—just barely. Sirius looked away but smiled.

Remus held his palm out, “Give your hand here.”

Sirius glanced nervously at the lemon, “Won’t that hurt?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, and held out his hand more insistently, “What do you think the honey’s for? It will only sting for a moment…”

For the second time that night, Sirius relinquished his hand.

Sirius watched Remus’ brow furrow as he gently pressed the the cross section of the lemon across Sirius’ slightly blistered knuckles. Sirius hissed, then tried to turn it into a cough. He pointedly ignored Remus’ smirk.

Remus’ fingers were cool against the irritated skin around the burn, and Sirius drew his lip between his teeth as Remus carefully smeared a bit of honey over the aching cut. The thick paste relieved the throbbing to a duller pain.

“Christ.”

Remus wiped his hands on a kitchen rag, “More useful than a Roman myth, huh?”

Sirius scoffed, “I apologized.”

“Is that how world affairs are settled then? Apologies?” Remus smiled, producing a bandage from the same cupboard the honey had come from. His long fingers worked nimbly as he wraps Sirius’ hand.

“This is hardly a worldly affair..” Sirius said under his breath. Remus glanced at Sirius, looking at him flatly, then sighed, finishing the wrap.

“There. If it starts to hurt again, I- or I mean Madame Pomfrey can-“

“I’ll find you if it hurts.” Sirius’s mouth said it before he could think on it, and he slid from the counter.

Remus nodded slowly, “Oh. Right.”

Sirius drummed his fingers on the countertop, looking down at Remus, “Right.”

Remus glanced around Sirius nervously, “People will probably be waking soon.”

Sirius nodded, although he hadn’t really heard what Remus had said. They were standing quite close, “Right.”

Remus seemed a bit breathless when he spoke again, “We have to prepare your breakfast…”

Sirius arched an eyebrow, “Do _you_ prepare the breakfast?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, “I prepare _your_ breakfast.”

Sirius blinked, “Really?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder, “When you take it in your room at least. Which is-“

“-most days.” Sirius finished. He cocked his head slightly, “But how do you know?”

Remus shook his head, confused, “Know?”

“That I’m having it upstairs.”

Remus paused for a moment, as if waiting for Sirius to continue, or to laugh. Then his eyebrows raised very high to his hairline and he let out a burst of laughter, “Honestly?”

Sirius stepped back a step, cheeks heating, “What?”

Remus quickly stopped laughing, noticing Sirius’ offended gaze, “No- No, I’m sorry,” His eyes filled with something that looked like disapointment. Sirius felt that same emotion stirring in his chest, although he didn’t quite know why, “It’s just… you really don’t know how we work down here, do you?”

Sirius shuffled uncomfortably, trying not to jostle his hand too much, “Well…” He tried to think of some excuse, shrugging, “When I come down here everyone stops working to ask what I want.”

“They’re suppose to do that.” Remus points out.

“Yes, but that explains why I don’t know how it works.” Sirius spluttered.

Remus smiled, “Fine, fine… Lord, I’m sitting here arguing with a Prince… James tells me.”

Sirius, fully prepared for a defense again, deflated some, “Oh.” He contemplated for a moment, “Well, I guess I should have thought of that.”

Remus shrugged, eyes teasing, “I guess.”

Sirius found he much preferred this boy to look at him like that than how he had just been, “Education… Education’s not everything, I suppose.”

When Remus smiled shyly at his own words being reflected back at him, Sirius felt something, some wall, crack a little. He smiled.

There was a creak from the floorboards above causing both boys to look up, then back down at each other. They were nearly nose to nose, and Sirius quite enjoyed that he had to look down a bit to meet Remus’ eyes.

“I- you may want to go.”

Sirius nodded. The thought of being surrounded by bustling activity, having to answer why he was down here in the first place, was suddenly very unappealing, “Yes. I should. I-“

The stared at each other, unsure of what to say.

“Well. Thank you… for the honey. Not for the burn.” He nodded shortly, not moving away just yet.

“Oh. Yes.” Remus was breathless again, eyes fixed on Sirius, “Thank you for… the myth. Not for the condescension.”

When he was safe in his room again, the sun peaking through the seam in his dark, heavy curtains, Sirius couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed his face; at the eyes that filled his thoughts, at the boy in the kitchen, at the eggs he woke up to a few hours later.

~

“Sirius, you have dinner in a _half hour_. And it isn’t you your mum kills if you’re late, its _me_ , so, please, if we could just-“

Sirius looked up from the hot water surrounding him to where James was leaning against the doorway, making frantic _hurry up_ motions.

“James, I am naked and thoroughly enjoying my bath so if you could stop _staring_ at me. Also, I don’t know if that statement is entirely correct… I recall being murdered quite a few times. Pass me that cloth, would you?”

James rolled his eyes, reminding Sirius with a pang of his late night run in from just a few hours ago, and more threw it at him.

Sirius glared, “I can have you fired. Turned out of the castle.”

James glared, lying down on the plush bench along the bath, feet by Sirius’ head.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, “For that too.”

James laughed at the ceiling, hands behind his head, eyes closed, “Yes, but you won’t.”

Sirius grinned, then hissed as his burned hand touched the hot water. James raised an eyebrow.

“What happened there, anyway?”

Sirius started, making a show of soaking the towel and squeezing the excess water out, “Oh. Just a burn. Some clumsy-one of your lot didn’t know how to handle the tea.”

James scoffed, “Well, that wasn’t rude at all.”

Sirius blinked, then sank further into the water, sighing, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

James sighed, closing his eyes again, “I know, don’t worry.”

“You seem to be the only one that does…” He grumbled under his breath, images of disappointed and disapproving amber eyes crossing his mind.

James peaked one eye open, “Huh?”

Sirius let the cloth go and watched it slowly sink to the bottom of the large tub, “Nothing.”

James looked at him for a moment longer, but knew better than to push. Instead, he stood, snagging a large towel and laying it in his place on the bench, “I’m getting your dinner clothes ready. You’ve had long enough, get out.”

“Yes, _mum_.”

“Don’t insult me.” James called over his shoulder.

~

Sirius, despite the torment, sat perfectly still through dinner. He felt like a caged animal that had been trained to do so—especially with guests around which, given the fact that they were the royal family, there was always the nobles and some duke and duchess from god knows where around to dine with. He listened his mother talk politics, he watched his father talk politics—if not in a slightly more slurred fashion and into his whiskey glass. He watched his brother, Regulus, sit there silently, glaring at his food as if it had personally offended. He was only glad his cousins weren’t in town. Well, maybe Andromeda. She never was the worst of the lot at least.

He wished for probably the thousandth time in his life that James could sit at the dinner table with him, or that maybe he could sit at James’ dinner table. He almost didn’t care that it was with the rest of the servants—no. No, he _didn’t_ care. He glared at his mother, shoving a piece of duck into his mouth. He knew he had her to thank for those elitist slip-ups.

As if this wasn’t torment enough, his hand positively _ached_. Remus’ remedy had long washed off in the bath, and with the dry cotton wrap rubbing against it every time he cut his food, it felt like there was a coal being pressed against his skin all over again. Highly distracting. He told himself he would go to Pomfrey after dinner, perhaps skip dessert for it all together.

That’s what he told himself he would do.

When the time came for puddings and cakes he stood, scraping his chair back and pointedly ignoring his mother’s look.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

He waved his hand dismissively, “Some idiot servant burned me with tea this morning,” The slur rolled as effortlessly off his tongue as the lie did, “I’m going to seek Pomfrey.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, only for a man to open the dining room doors for him. He swept through the halls, hand cradled to his chest, with the full intention of making his way to the castle infirmary. His found his feet straying, however. He took a turn, trotting down the staircase he had taken the previous night, not realizing where he was or what he was doing until he was already hovering in the doorway.

~

Remus all but collapsed onto the stool by the large island, letting the heat still radiating from the kitchen fireplace warm the aching muscles of his back.

“Well, that sorts it then,” Mrs. Potter, the cook, rubbed her hands together, dusting flour residue from then, “Another dinner done right, Remus, hm?”

Remus gave her a tired, half smile, “Right.”

“Splendidly done, of course!” James entered the kitchen, carefully avoiding the various things dusting the table—he was still in his valet tails—as he took the stool next to Remus, leaning over to press a kiss to his mum’s cheek, “Please tell me you saved some-“

Remus pushed a plate of three Walnut cookies towards him. James all but growled.

“You’re a saint.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Not quite.”

“I believe he was talking to me.” Mrs. Potter chuckled kindly, “I’m off for some tea and then bed. Remus, make sure that fire is out properly before you go up, yeah?”

Remus nodded, accepting a half of cookie James broke off for him. He watched her kiss her son and then exit, chewing in silence.

Remus felt the question rise back to the tip of his tongue, the one he’d almost asked at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Only it was ten times stronger now that he and James were alone.

He cleared his throat, “Um. James?”

“Hm?” James took another cookie, offering half to Remus again who shook his head this time.

“Is… Is the prince…”

James arched an eyebrow when Remus trailed off.  
Remus huffed, “What’s he like exactly?”

James snorted a little, smiling and popping another bit into his mouth, “What do you think he’s like?”

“Rather rude.” Remus said before he could stop himself, “I- I just mean. He doesn’t understand much, does he?”

“About us? God, no.” He shook his head, “Barely realizes the things he says sometimes… I suppose that’s where the rudeness would come in.”

Remus nodded, silently begging James to go on. He didn’t know why he was so curious but he’d practically had to _will_ himself to sleep last night, and even then it was restless. Even then a certain rude, condescending prince invaded his thoughts. He’d ended up coming down to make the bread an entire hour and a half early.

“But, that being said and all… he’s not all bad. He’s just…” James shrugged, “he’s sheltered, I suppose. Doesn’t have a clue what the real world’s like. I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought everyone got their breakfast served on a silver tray in bed each day.” Remus snorted with him, “But, y’know, he treats me well. If he does say something and I correct him, it takes him a minute but he apologizes-“

“You _correct_ him?”

James waves a hand, “We’ve been together since we were kids, I’m more than allowed.”

Remus nods. James had grown up here. He tried to imagine a younger version of the boy he’d met last night playing with a servant boy. He frowned.

“Why so curious all of a sudden?”

Remus blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, “What?”

“You’ve never asked about Sirius before.”

“Oh.” Remus shifted in his chair, “I. I just- I…” For the life of him, he couldn’t think of something to say. With James still looking at him so curiously, his shoulders deflated and he sighed, “I met him. Last night.”

James’ eyebrows raised to his hairline, “Really? How?”

“I was doing the fires in the West Parlor and he walked in—I think he’d been walking all night… And- and then I burned his hand.” Remus finished miserably.

“You burned his hand? With tea?”

Remus blinked, “What? No. He took it upon himself to show me how to do _my_ job,” fresh annoyance bloomed in Remus’ chest, “and I forgot to shut the gate. Then I took him down hear and wrapped it for him-“

“Jesus, he didn’t mention any of this.” James laughed.

Remus stuttered for a moment, willing the disappointment that closed in, snuffing out the annoyance to dissipate. Why would he mention it? Sirius’ words echoed in his ears.

_This is hardly a world affair_

“Well. I-“ Remus huffed, “I just wondered what you thought. He started spewing all this shit about Roman myths and what the world was like and he practically _assumed_ I didn’t have an education…” Not quite true, but Remus was suddenly a little furious at the prince. For depriving him of sleep, for the way he spoke, for the way he dressed, for everything he was. Everything he stood for. Everything Remus wasn’t.

James laughed again, shoving the last bit of cookie towards Remus, “Think you need this more than I do.”

“Shut up.” Remus fought the soft smile that played on his face.

James held his hands up in surrender and pushed back from the table, “Alright, alright. I’m going up. You need anything?”

Remus shook his head, “No, got most of everything done already. Just the fire. Might stay down here a while longer. Clean the counter… or something.”

James nodded, rapped his knuckles on the table twice, and set off for the stairs. Remus listened to his footsteps fade, and then leaned his elbows onto the table, head in his hands. He really should go to bed too. He’d had an even longer day than usual, but he was restless, mind working overdrive—annoyingly so.

Another set of footsteps approached from the main stairs leading to the house. He assumed it was a waiter, Peter maybe, and didn’t bother looking up, even when they stopped and hovered in the doorway.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Remus started so hard he banged his knee painfully into one of the pans hanging on a hook under the island. He spun, standing up and swaying slightly on his feet. He tried to ignore how hard his heart was racing at the sight he was met with, the person he had been thinking about since five this morning.

Sirius chewed on his lower lip before offering a small smile, “I keep doing that to you, I apologize.”

Remus finds himself unable to answer for a moment, eyes locked on stormy gray ones.

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, glancing downwards, and it is then that Remus realizes he’s holding his injured hand gingerly against his chest, the wrap he’d given him yesterday clumsily falling apart to reveal his knuckles, looking rubbed raw and worse off than before.

“I’m here fore further treatment.” He says matter of factly, spine straightening, “I’m afraid the pain has returned. Although I’m not sure it ever really left.”

Remus wanted to narrow his eyes at the tone. Sirius didn’t seem to be giving him an option in the matter. Instead, he sighed.

“Yes. Right. Um. Sit there.” He pushed the stool forward with his leg and busied himself with the honey and lemon like before, trying to ignore the fact that he could feel Sirius eyes on him. He took James’ seat, scooting it until he was close enough to rest Sirius’ hand on his knee, his knee that he realized too late was slotted rather snuggly between Sirius’ thighs. He cleared his throat, ignoring the heat that rose on his neck.

“You probably should have come sooner. The skin’s irritated now.”

“You’re the expert, you could’ve come to me.” Sirius pointed out.

“Right, okay, would that be before or after I was making your meals?”

He couldn’t help it. He slipped, the anger coming through. He didn’t look up to see it register in Sirius’ face. When Sirius didn’t retort, guilt started to set in. He rolled his neck a little, trying to stretch out his sore muscles, “Sorry.”

Sirius was silent for a moment longer, “It’s alright… You’re tired.”

Remus couldn’t help the slightly bitter laugh that escaped, “You’ve got that right. Didn’t sleep much last night.” _No thanks to you._

“Oh.” Remus thinks he hears a small note of interest in his voice, surprise maybe, “Well. Hot water is relaxing. Might help. Maybe with some oils. Chamomile is-“

“That probably would help.” Remus interjected, only a little heatedly. He shouldn’t say it, he knows Sirius is just trying to help, maybe even make up for his snide comments if what James says about him is true, but he’s tired and confused and _restless_ , “If we had hot water.”

He regrets the words the instant they’re out of his mouth. This time he does glance up at Sirius who, to his surprise, closed his eyes, a pained expression coming across his face. He breathed harshly out through his nose. Remus’ hands stills where they’re holding Sirius’ injured one.

“I don’t mean to do that, you know…”

And Remus’ heart speeds up a little. Because it sounds genuine enough. It’s sent racing when Sirius’ eyes blink back open slowly. He looks sorry, he really does.

“Yeah…I’m catching onto that I think.” Remus says softly.

Sirius’ teeth worry his bottom lip, “Yeah?”

Remus nodded, “Yeah.”

They stare at each other for a second longer, and Remus realizes with a start that his eyes have moved to his _lips_ at the same time as Sirius clears his throat, glancing at the plate that was previously filled with walnut cookies. There’s still a bit of one, the bite Remus had never taken.

“I don’t suppose you’d have any more of those?” He asks timidly.

Remus looks down at Sirius’ hand, which is only half bandaged and tries to finish the job as quickly as he can, “Did you not just eat?”

“I skipped dessert. Hand hurt to bad. It’s really the least you could do since you were the cause of this…”

Remus jerks his head up, fully prepared to fucking bite Sirius’ head off, when he sees the smirk.

He rolls his eyes, not even bothering to feel off about it, and smirks back, “Yes, your _highness_.”

He’s surprised when Sirius’ face falls, and he looks down to his hand, retrieving it from Remus’ grasp quickly and cradling it back to his chest.

“Sirius.” Remus corrects himself quickly, and relief fills his chest when Sirius glances up once more, smile just beneath the surface, “And yeah, I think we have a few.”


	2. part ii

There wasn’t a time Sirius loved more than the beginning of summer. The promise of days and days of sun ahead of him. And, perhaps more so, the fact that those days were free of lessons and completely his—for the most part—to do with whatever he pleased. And there was also the parties. Sirius hated his family, that was true, but he couldn’t say he minded the connections, the money.

He laughed to himself. James would have smacked him right about now.

He had called for some food and blankets to be laid out by the swimming hole just off to the left of the castle for him and Regulus, only Regulus had yet to show. Sirius had spent the first hour waiting, but now floating lazily on his back. Regulus was making a habit of ditching Sirius lately. He wished he could call his younger brother pompous and call it a day but the hurt prickled inside of him like an unreachable itch. Sirius sighed, kicking out into the middle of the water. At least the sun hadn’t disappointed.

He’d asked James to come—he probably would have had loads more fun that way— but it was his day off. And Sirius knew, even as James sent him a guilty smile, that he didn’t stand a chance. Not when—what was her name again? Lily, Lily who worked as a housemaid, yes. Not when Lily was going to be at the pub in town. Sirius had waved him off. He didn’t want James to think he could, or ever would, _make_ him stay. The truth was that James was his first and only friend. And Sirius was his employer. They were friends, of course, but work came first. Sirius was a prince first in James’ mind no matter how much he insisted against it. And he had insisted.

Apparently it was a prince’s job to swim and spend the summer _alone_. Of course, his mind did flash briefly to someone… but it was probably his day off too. Sirius would probably ruin it with some snide, accidental comment anyhow. His mother’s voice chided him in his head: _Ghastly, Sirius, to be hanging about with that lot. Positively ghastly._

Sirius groaned, flipping into the water and kicking downward towards the muddy bottom.

~

The kitchen was _burning_. He’d been happy to have the room to himself, having finally convinced James and the others that he’d rather stay in—he really did want to try out the chocolate cake recipe Mrs. Potter had found for him even if James didn’t buy it—up until he’d gotten the ovens going. The coals felt like they were right on his neck. But he stayed, throwing all the windows open and mixing and cutting and whisking until it was a pleasant temperature with a cool breeze. The smell of summer and chocolate was a match made in heaven. He hummed to himself absentmindedly as he checked the recipe card, running his finger down the slightly heat smudged ink. As he stirred and checked, stirred and check, his mind went elsewhere, as it often did when he was baking.

Sirius hadn’t stayed long after Remus had found him the biscuits. He’d eaten one, and they’d sat there, next to each other, Remus trying to pretend he wasn’t staring, Sirius trying to pretend he wasn’t catching him.

 _A prince_ , Remus had told himself, _Get out now, push it down, leave it be. Forget._

That had been Remus’ method for years. With the grocery boy in his home town, with the baker’s son in the village for a time being, even with James for brief period when he’d first got here—he’d gotten over that one quickly.

He had tried to deny this one, but honestly, his breath had caught the second Sirius crouched down next to him by the fire. That was not what he had been expecting. He wasn’t saying Sirius was perfect. He was clearly _not_ a man of both worlds. He was slightly obnoxious, slightly oblivious, slightly pompous, and, possibly, slightly attractive. Note the _slightly_. But he was kind. Remus saw it in the smiles that slipped through. He was born into the obnoxious, oblivious, pompousness, but the kindness was his own. Remus had overheard his mother—the queen—giving Mrs. Potter instructions for a banquet before. Yes, the kindness was all Sirius. Remus’ stirring had slowed into a lazy motion that he was no longer conscious of. He frowned out the window. And Sirius would _catch himself._ Repeatedly. He watched him realize what he had said and look sorry for it. Comments like that were burned into him but he was slowly realizing. Maybe he had James to thank for that, but Remus had a sneaking suspicion it was Sirius’ realization as well.

“Always alone.”

Remus whipped his head around, only just managing to keep his bowl on the table, and let out a breathless laugh. He was met with a smiling, rather wet Sirius.

“That’s the third time. I’m starting to think you like doing that.”

Sirius walked in, his shirt sticking in patches to his damp skin. Remus swallowed, dragging his eyes back to Sirius’ face, “Can I get you anything?”

Sirius heaved himself onto a stool across from Remus, eyeing his bowl, “No, I don’t think so… Thought everyone would be at the pub. I just… didn’t want to go upstairs.”

Remus started whisking again, adding a few sifts of flour to thicken the chocolate paste, “No?”

“My mum’s planning a party. First of the summer’s, it’s-”

“Summer’s Eve.” Remus finished, shooting Sirius a smile.

Sirius set him a lopsided grin, “Right. Right, you’d know about that…”

“Always liked watching the dancing.”

Sirius worried his lip, eyebrows pulling together, “Yeah?”

“‘Course.”

Sirius picked up an egg, holding it between his palms, “How long have you been here?”

Remus leveled off some sugar, crushing some clumps with his fingers, “I think its about a year now.”

Remus looked over the measuring cup when Sirius simply hummed, only to find him staring back at him.

“Funny, that we’ve never met.” Sirius said after a moment.

Remus raised an eyebrow, dumping the sugar in, “Not really.”

Sirius huffed out a laugh, “Yeah. Yeah, not really..”

Remus looked away from Sirius’ smile, swallowing over the heat bubbling in his chest. He was suddenly very aware at just how filthy his apron was. Not to mention his shirt. He glanced quietly at the hole in his left shoe toe.

“Why aren’t in town, anyway? I figured everyone would be at the pub. This place is deserted. Well, except for you.”

Remus cut a slab of soft butter, smoothing it around the bottom of the pan with his knife, and tried to shrug as casually as he could, “Dunno. Don’t like the pub much.”

“Why? Everyone likes the pub.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, “How would you know?”

Sirius straightened, eyeing Remus, “Everyone _seems_ to like the pub. Or really, I guess everyone just seems to like the girls there.”

Remus laughed, “True.”

Remus saw Sirius lean forward on his elbows in his peripheral vision, “Don’t you like a girl there? Or here? Someone to go with.”

Remus felt the familiar discomfort at this question rising in his stomach, “No,” he cleared his throat, crumpling some parchment paper in his fist, “No, not particularly.”

“No?” He heard something, something in Sirius’ voice. He couldn’t tell what it was, but he feared the worst.

“Not at the moment, I mean. I’m sure I’ll- I’m sure there’s someone. Just- I’m just waiting for- that someone.” He sounded idiotic and he knew it.

“Oh. Of course. That must be nice.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, “Being alone?”

Sirius looked up at him from where his gaze had been focused on the egg he was holding. His eyes were sad and honest, “Being able to choose.”

Remus opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “Oh.”

Remus threw everything he had into squashing the feeling that was rising in his chest. Of course. _He’s a prince. You know your place and it isn’t with… It can never be with-_

Sirius shook his head a little, pushing his wet hair off his forehead so it stick up in the front. He offered Remus a small smile, “You must be just loving this. Listening to me complain. You probably think I have the whole world and yet here I am..”

Remus scoffed, snapping out of it and pouring the batter into the pan over the parchment paper, “That’s an awfully big assumption.”

Sirius sighed, rolling the egg on the table, eyes following it as it changed directions on its own, “Yes. You’re right.”

He was much more willing to admit Remus was right today.

Remus turned back around from pushing the cake into the oven, dusting flour off his hands, “Do you even know how to cook that?”

“Nope.”

Remus smiled, “That’s pathetic.”

Sirius jolted up at that, “I _beg_ your-“

“Sorry.” Remus was still smiling.

Sirius’ eyes were narrowed but Remus could see the smile that was threatening to show itself.

“Can you do the Summer’s Waltz?”

Remus blinked, “What?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, “Can you?”

“Well, no-“

“Exactly.”

Remus stared at him for a few moments, “I’m lost.”

“I’ve no reason to know how to cook an egg, so I can’t. You can. You’ve no reason to know the Summer’s Waltz, so you can’t. But I do, so I can.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Yes, alright, very clever.”

Sirius smiled. Remus turned to the oven with one of his own. The flames seemed less bright that that smile.

_Get out now, push it down, leave it be._

Remus took a deep breath. _Forget._

“Am… Am I bothering you?”

Remus turned to Sirius once more, rather too quickly, “Hm? What?”

Sirius actually looked a little sheepish, “It’s just… I realized I just sort of… came in. You were alone. I don’t know-“

“No.” Again, too quickly, “No,” Remus cleared his throat, “You’re fine. I mean- I mean to say you- I mean, of course you can be here. You’re you.”

Sirius’ brows pulled together, corners of his mouth turning down, “That’s not what I meant.”

Remus took a shaky breath. _Of course you’re fine, I want you here_ , “I know. Sorry. I don’t mind you being here. I’m just testing recipes…”

Sirius seemed to relax a little and got up, spying the recipe card on the table, “But you bake every other day of the week…”

Remus was very aware that Sirius was right next to him, and very aware that he hadn’t bathed that morning, “Well… I like chocolate.”

Sirius looked at him.

Remus motioned to the oven, “I never get to bake for myself. I like chocolate, I made chocolate cake.”

Sirius was quiet, just nodding and looking so intently at Remus that he felt his cheeks start to heat.

“It will be ready soon… If you-“

“Yes.”

Remus almost laughed at the quick response, “Alright…”

The lapsed into a silence. Remus alternating between watching the cake and watching Sirius, and Sirius alternating between rolling the egg and watching Remus.

Remus poked fun at Sirius when he watched in (almost) awe as he took the cake from the oven, and nearly hit him when he recounted how different it looked without all the dressings and plates.

“Absolutely ridiculous…” Remus muttered under his breath.

“Can we…”

Remus looked up when Sirius trailed off. Sirius’ hair was dry now and slightly fluffy around his ears from the heat, and with the way his cheeks were heating up Remus took a step back. Because he didn’t look royal right then, in his fluffy hair and bare feet. He looked normal. He looked attainable.

_No one you look at is attainable._

“Can we..?” Remus prompted.

Sirius straightened, “Can we eat it like this?”

Remus blinked and his mouth slowly formed a smile, “Had too much of proper life, have you?”

Sirius shot him a look and Remus sat down and dug his fingers into the cake, taking a rather large chunk out of the side. Sirius grinned almost impishly and pulled a stool over next to Remus, taking a chunk from the other side.

“My god.” He said, “This is fucking brilliant.”

“The eating method or the cake?” Remus said through cake.

“Both.” Sirius sighed, “Can’t remember liking dessert this much in a long time.”

“Excuse you!” It came out sounding more like _hue hu!_ and Remus swallowed, “I _make_ that dessert.”

Sirius held his hands up in mock surrender, “I think it’s good and all, don’t get me wrong. I’ve just… I don’t know.” He was quiet for a moment and then, “Maybe the company makes the meal.”

Remus started, blinking at Sirius. He had chocolate on his upper lip, his hair was still fluffy, his cheeks were even more pink than before. And Remus could feel the tug. The familiar, forbidden tug.

“I-“ He was out of his seat before he knew what he was doing, chair screeching back against the slate floor painfully, “Um.” 

Sirius stood too, “Remus..“

Remus couldn’t decide if it was a plea or a question. He wanted to stay. God, Sirius had only said his _name_ and he wanted to _staystaystay._

“You can have the rest of the cake. I’ve just remembered-” His mind drew a blank to any excuse he could have made.

And he was gone, leaving Sirius alone in the kitchen with half a cake and a frown.


	3. part iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys! I was traveling and had the surprise of no wifi :/ Thank you all so much for reading! :)

Sirius thought being a royal meant having power. He thought having power meant having answers. Academically speaking he supposed this was true. He did have power. In a few more months, he’d have all the power in the world. A kingdom. A nation. Anything available, all answers ready at the snap of his fingers. His whole being would be flooded with his royal blood. It would be all anyone would see. Not that people saw much more anyhow.

Sirius looked down from the doorway, blinking and surprised to find his hand outstretched towards the place where Remus had been a moment before. He opened and closed it a few times, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. He could use an answer right about now.

But it was useless. Power. Royalty. It was all so utterly useless against… whatever had just happened. He was tempted to try, to search and see if someone could puzzle this one out for him as well. But he wasn’t sure that was possible.

He put his hand down, only now noticing how cool the room had gotten as the sun set. He looked up at the sound of feet above him, frantic feet… pacing? The floorboards groaned under the hesitation and then squeaked and protested when the pacing started up again. Twice they came to the top of the stairs, and twice they retreated once more. He wanted to go up, almost did a few times… But Sirius didn’t know if he was welcome upstairs. He frowned as Remus’ words echoed in his ears.

_Of course you can be here. You’re you._

He sat back on the stool, sighing and picking another piece of cake from the crumb ridden plate. The phrase really shouldn’t bother him. It was true after all. He _could_ go any where he pleased. And it _was_ because of who he was. He should be proud of that, _that_ was power, so why wasn’t he? It was maddening, honestly, but he didn’t want Remus to think-

Sirius threw the cake down, rubbing his hands over his face.

He didn’t know what he didn’t want Remus to think. That he would invade any space he chooses just because he can? Yes. But he could so why shouldn’t he?

Sirius stood. He wanted answers. Why shouldn’t he get them?

The stairs practically wailed under his feet and he heard Remus still. He turned into a small, nearly bare bedroom almost immediately as he followed the sound—or lack of. He hoped his reaction didn’t register on his face. The room was sad, and drab, and positively wretched. He didn’t know how Remus lived in here much less slept at night.

“Who said you could come up here?”

Sirius turned his gaze away from Remus’ bedroom and to the boy himself. Remus stood in the center on a small, threadbare rug that could hardly pass for more than an old dishtowel in Sirius’ opinion. His arms were wrapped protectively around himself and he was red from his cheeks to his neck, a dark embarrassed flush that made him look positively endearing and livid at the same moment.

Sirius stepped into the room, carefully avoiding the moldy door frame, “You left without explanation, I came-“

“That doesn’t mean I wanted you to follow.”

Sirius shook his head, mind reeling, “I don’t understand.”

“Oh,” Remus scoffed, “There’s a first.”

Sirius, to his surprise, flooded with hurt rather than anger at the insult. He didn’t want to lash out, not like he usually did. But he wanted it to stop. He took a deep breath through his nose.

“Why, are you so angry?”

“Because-“ Remus gestured wildly at Sirius who looked down at himself, trying to pinpoint _something_ that he could have done. He looked back up, bewildered, when Remus failed to elaborate.

Remus’ cheeks were pink his eyes burning, “You can’t just waltz in everywhere like you own the place!”

“I _do_ own the place!” Sirius burst, confusion slowly giving way to the familiar burning flare of his temper.

“That doesn’t give you the right!”

“I-“ He snapped his mouth shut. His hands were fists at his side. He felt deep, dark shame spread through his chest, snuffing anything else out in its path. His straightened, “I know that.”

He dropped his gaze from Remus’ who was still breathing hard, “I know that.”

Remus turned away too, bracing his hands against the splintering desk on the far wall and not saying a word.

Sirius wanted to take it back. He’d foreseen this reaction and carried it out anyway. Why?

_Pride._

Sirius swallowed.

Remus’ knuckles were white against the wood and he stiffened when Sirius took a step forward so he took two backwards instead, “I apologize.” After the evening they’d spent together, the words felt too formal coming out of his mouth but he continued the tone anyway. He didn’t know how to not set Remus off again. He didn’t want to.

“I overstepped. I was… confused. I didn’t mean-“

“I know.” Sirius was surprised at Remus’ voice. It was shaky and unsure. It was hopeless, “I know you didn’t mean it, you never mean it, but you do it and I… I think its best that you go. Just right now, I-“ Remus turned back around, sighing. Sirius’s fingers dug into his palms at the relief that flooded his chest when Remus looked at him, “I don’t know what to say right now, alright? I’m sorry, you’re sorry, let’s just… leave it at that. This is strange enough as it is.”

Sirius blinked, “I didn’t- what about this is strange?”

Remus let out a small, only half humorous laugh, “Really?”

Sirius shuffled, unsure. He didn’t like not knowing, he didn’t like being unsure. But here he was, with Remus, a boy who seemed to be nothing but unfamiliar territory.

“I- I had a fine time tonight. I don’t see what’s so odd.” He clasped his hands behind his back, then unclasped them, the gesture reminding him too much of his father.

Remus looked at him for a moment more, then shook his head, hands going behind him briefly to untie his plain, canvas apron from around his waist, tossing it onto the bed, “Have you forgotten who we are?”

“Of course not.” And then Sirius slipped a little, “Quite hard to given the state of this room.” He trailed off at the end, biting down hard on his tongue, “I- I didn’t-“

“Yeah, you didn’t mean it, right?” Remus’ stare was colder than Sirius had seen it yet, “You really should go.”

The silence in the room was crushing. Sirius tried to straighten his back, to regain some form of composure… but he couldn’t. Not enough, anyway. And he turned quickly on his heels, thundering back down the stairs and up out of the cool kitchen. He ran and didn’t stop until he was leaning back against the shut door of his room. He gazed around at it, breathing hard.

Everything was perfect. 

The pillows were fluffed, the sheets turned down. Not a speck of dust. The finest of silk sheets lay waiting for him, the wood bed frame positively shone. The expensively dyed, woven tapestries on the walls showed riches and wealth.

He gulped down air, nails digging into the wood behind him. He’d let himself believe for a moment. He’d let himself think that maybe, just maybe… 

A friend.

But here he was, back where he started. In this spotless room, waiting for a future to be mapped out for him. Waiting and simply passing the time. Is that what he’s trying to do with Remus? Yes. Yes, that’s better. It’s better to think of it like that. Just a way to pass the time. Not a friend. A servant. That’s what he is, that’s what James is, that’s what they all are. And he is a king.

He is a king, and a king rules alone.

~

Sirius stayed quiet as James dressed him, avoiding his curious glances when any attempt at banter or conversation was more or less ignored.

“Mate, the party won’t be that bad. There will be drinks, look at it that way.”

Sirius nodded, busying himself with undoing and re-doing a tie on his sleeve, “I’m sure.”

He heard James still from where he was hanging up a dress jacket from behind him, then sigh, “Alright…”

Sirius closed his eyes briefly at the guilt that flooded his chest. He didn’t want James to think he was angry with him. He wasn’t really all that _angry_ at all. He was confused, he was hurt. He couldn’t seem to say the right thing anyhow so why say anything at all?

“The pub was fine, by the way,” James voice came after a moment, much more guarded than before, “thanks for asking-”

“I’ll take the green instead, actually.” Sirius cut him off before he could try and start another conversation, a conversation Sirius didn’t think he could finish before slipping up and loosing what little distance he’d been able to put between him and his friend in the half hour James had been in his room. He shrugged off the black vest he was wearing and held it out without eye contact, simply trying to keep James busy.

He could feel James looking at him and finally had to look up as well, not wanting to run the risk of appearing childish. They held each other’s gaze for a second before James took the thin velvet garment, turning back to the closet and swiping the green, “Why the sudden change of heart?”

He was not referring to the jacket.

Sirius allowed James to ease the material over his broad shoulders, straightening it with a tug, “Just… thought it would be better.”

He was not referring to the jacket.

A few beats of silence and then he heard James huff out a breath, “Well then. Okay.” Sirius turned around nodding as James eyed him somewhat too knowingly. Sirius knew he knew something was up. Instead of pressing, however, James just spread his hands then let them drop back to his sides, slapping against his pants, “Right, enjoy your party, feast, ball, whatever it is.”

“Not likely.”

James smirked at the same time Sirius did and there it was. The friendship leaking through the cracks. Sirius cursed himself for letting it, and thanked god that it was there in the first place. He straightened.

“I’ll let you know if I need anything. I assume you won’t be waitering?”

“McGonagall said they had enough so, no.” James pushed his hands into his pockets.

Sirius nodded. McGonagall, head of the downstairs, always on top of things. Sirius had always liked her despite what his mother said about her habits and dress.

“Right, okay.”

James nodded back, and was turning to go when he halted, hand on the door nob, and turned, “Sirius?”

 _No, no, just leave, James._ Sirius chanted at him in his head. He would slip up again. James was all he had and he would slip up again, “Hm?”

James tilted his head a little, “Are you okay?”

Sirius exhaled a shaky breath, closing his eyes. Because of course. James, all he had, his first and only friend, and the only person to ever ask him that, ever. He savored it, he let it melt the walls away. He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t sure he’d even tried properly—wasn’t sure he _could_ try properly, but he couldn’t shut him out. Not James.

“Sirius?” Worry clouded James’ voice now.

Sirius opened his eyes and nodded quickly, “Yes. Yes, fine. Just…” He tok a breath, words coming out with his exhale, exhausted, “you know how I get at these things.” 

James nodded slowly, as if weighing it for truthfulness, “Right.” He turned to go but turned once more, “You’d say, wouldn’t you? You’d tell me if it was more?”

Sirius melted a little more. Care and kindness was not something he was experienced with, and he fumbled to handle it each and every time. His conscious screamed a few things that his mind didn’t quite comprehend yet.

_I’m so lonely I can barely stand it._

_Everything I need is right here. Everything I want is right here and so far._

_I am a king and he’s not._

That last was especially dangerous. He didn’t know what would happen if he let that one come to full comprehension.

“Sure. ‘course.” Sirius bit the inside of his bottom lip, “Of course I would, James. Have a good night, yeah?”

James flashed him an uneasy grin and left fully this time, door shutting softly behind him.

Sirius let out a breath he had been holding. His sheets were silk. His crown was pure gold. His clothes were the finest all around. His cellar was full of riches and coin. His home was a castle. His birthright was a country and a beautiful queen.

And yet, at that moment, he would have traded it all for a bit of plain chocolate cake and the sandy hair and kind smile that went with it. And he didn’t know why. He knew which should be more promising, but he also knew which one actually was.

He left for the party with heavy feet and a conflicted mind.

~

The party was brilliant and soft. The lanterns shone out against the dusky sky and laughter filled the summer garden. The patterns in the paper placed around the candles cast intricate patterns on the guest’s faces, making them seem to be a part of the flowers that surrounded them. Sirius wished he could enjoy it all more, honestly, he did. He lived for summer evenings. But his mother was cackling at his elbow, his brother sulking at his other, and his father downing scotch after scotch across from him, all while pretentious dukes and nobles and their wives laughed and practically bowed on the spot. Anything to gain favor. Sirius stood, back straight to avoid a glare and nails digging painfully into his neck, but it was all he could do to not slap the lot of them. But he had become fluent in the art of restraint early in his life. For many reasons.

He turned to Regulus, seeking at least some refuge, “Fancy a swim tomorrow?”

Regulus didn’t even look at him, “Not particularly.”

Sirius blinked, staring at his little brother for too long. His mind played images of them only a few years ago, snorting at the table and sneaking off from parties to some mischief. For the life of him, Sirius couldn’t say what had gone wrong. Another question, it seemed, the royal blood did not get him the answer to.

He sighed, turning away, “Right then. Nice of you to let me down lightly.”

Regulus glared sharply at him but turned away again, wordless.

“Sirius!”

Sirius’ stomach clenched at his mother’s voice—the singsong one she used in company. He flicked the corners of his lips up almost on instinct, turning towards the sound and whoever it was he was meant to greet. He nearly lost the slapped on smile, however, when he saw who that was.

“Sirius, darling, meet Anthea. Anthea Cerberus. You know the family…” His mother muttered the last part in his ear.

Sirius stared at the young girl for a moment. She looked around his age, maybe a few years younger. Her eyes were practically black against the swirling pattern of light that a lantern was slanting across her face, and although Sirius knew it was the lighting darkening the brown irises, it unnerved him. She looked soft and flush, just like the rest of the guests, but her gaze did not. Sirius listed off what he knew in his head. His age, female, introduced to him by his mother who followed the introduction by hissing a reminder of her status in his ear. Sirius gulped down the dread that was rising in his chest.

“Ms. Cerberus-“

“Oh, do call her Anthea, boy!”

Sirius grit his teeth, letting the pleasure he took in the slip up of his mother’s tone into his veins. He took the hand she was presumptuously offering, “ _Anthea_. Pleasure is mine.”

She let out a little laugh, biting on her lip in a way that he was sure was suppose to look sweet, “I’m sure.”

He scoffed ever so softly under his breath, “Are you?”

Sirius flinched at the familiar dig of his mother’s nails onto the flesh where his neck met his shoulder. His back straightened instinctively and his heart picked up. They retreated, and he could feel the sharp sting where the crescent shapes had broken skin.

“Anthea lives just in Akeldama. You know Akeldama.” The queen’s voice was back and strong, dripping with false adoration.

“Oh yes, wonderful hunting.” Sirius had never been hunting in his life and never would if he could help it.

“Quite right!” She fanned herself with the small embroidered fan she held. Two snakes with entertained necks blinked at Sirius from the stitching, “Perhaps one day you can catch me something. Something… big and bloodied.” Her eyes had lit up in a way that made Sirius want to positively _run._

“Yes…” He swallowed, keeping the smile up, “Perhaps-“

Sirius broke off, a movement from just beyond the lights catching his eye. He wasn’t even sure how he noticed it until he realized what exactly he was looking at. A face peaking out from between trees. More importantly, a face with a nose that sloped up just a bit at the end and caramel hair.

Sirius blinked a few times, then turned back to Anthea, knowing he had paused for too long to appear normal but attempting to recover anyway, “Yes, absolutely. Perhaps, in the meantime, I can offer you…” He glanced over to the dessert table, “something sweet?”

She giggled, although it didn’t sound like a giggle. It was horribly high pitched and came out through her nose.

“Oh yes, please.”

He left the girl and his mother, who were gushing about his gentlemanly actions, with no plan on returning.

He weaved through the crowds of people towards the long table that was laden to the brim with sweets and cakes and puddings. He nicked a plate and started from one end. He made his way through the table, taking two of every dessert that visibly contained or that he knew to contain any form of chocolate. When he was done, the plate was only just nearing too piled and he looked at it with satisfaction. If anything qualified as a piece offering, this was it. With a last glance towards where he could just see the tops of his mother and Anthea’s heads, he disappeared from under the lights, arcing around the trees, which he knew to ring a small clearing, where he had seen Remus’ face moments earlier.

He walked briskly until he was at the opposite edge of the clearing, fully able to see Remus’ back as he watched the party from the safety of the trees. His hands were pressed to the bark of the one to his left, wrapping around it and letting his temple rest against it. Sirius thought he heard soft humming in time to the music. Sirius took quiet, slow, steps until he was just behind Remus.

He took a deep breath, gathering his courage,

“A fairy’s ring.” Remus jumped out of his skin and Sirius grinned, “That’s what they call this.”

Remus let out a huff that could have been a laugh and turned, “Jesus fucking…”

“It’s suppose to have powers… of some sort.” Sirius interrupted him and pretended to look around at the darkening trees, the lights of the party only just filtering through them, when really he was watching Remus from the corner of his eye. Finally, he shrugged, eyes falling back on Remus fully, “If you believe in that sort of thing.”

Remus stood there quietly, watching Sirius with guarded eyes. When he said nothing, Sirius strode forward the last few steps to see the party as Remus had seen it, from between the trees. He spied his mother with her crown and cape almost instantly. You could not hear her cackle or falseness from here. You could not hear the snide, narrow-minded comments from here. You could not smell the reek of alcohol off his father from here. They all looked so happy from here. He wondered if Remus knew the truth.

“Looks quite lovely, doesn’t it?”

There was a few more beats of silence, until he felt Remus step up beside him, felt the warmth of his skin, “Yes. But you know that.”

His voice was guarded. The coolness stirred something in Sirius, some strange desire to do whatever he could to get rid of it. He thought of Remus in front of the oven that evening after swimming. He had felt so completely alone that day, floating in the center of the lake. But with Remus and his pink cheeks and freckled nose, he’d felt… cured? He didn’t know. Sirius shifted, clearing his throat, “I was making conversation.”

“You struggle with that.”

“With you, yes.” Sirius sighed. Again, he seemed to have stepped wrong.

He felt Remus stiffen beside him, then shift away to lean against the tree again. The heat of his skin had been distracting in a way that Sirius was sure it shouldn’t be, and was even more so now that it had gone.

Sirius tensed at the thought, the sudden want in his chest to regain that contact, and at his fingers tightening around the plate in his hands, he remembered what he was holding. He turned, holding it out wordlessly.

Remus looked down at it, eyes wide and blinking rapidly, then looked at Sirius with the same questioning stare.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to say…” Sirius hesitated. In reality, he couldn’t really remember what he had said to make Remus leave in the first place, “I meant not offense,” He settled on instead, “and I know you like chocolate, so… think of it as a peace offering. I hear the chocolate cake is divine.”

Remus’ mouth twitched upward at that and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, hesitantly taking the plate.

_I want to give him more. I want him to look at me like that again._

“I’ve… I’ve never had half of these.”

Sirius blinked, “You _make_ all of these.”

“For _you._ ” Remus laughed, actually laughed, and then caught himself, stuttering, “I mean for the upstairs. I mean- you know, your family.”

Sirius felt knocked askew at the guilt that rushed suddenly through him, “Oh. Well, we can sit. Or- you can sit. If you prefer.”

“No. No, it’s alright.” Remus nearly mumbled it and he dropped quickly to the ground. The light from the party cast soft shadows through the leaves against Remus’ face as he looked up at Sirius. It was better than the patterns of the lanterns and Sirius wished he could capture it somehow, “We can sit.”

He nodded, then sat too, shifting so he was shoulder to shoulder with Remus again, unable to resist feeling the warmth once more.

They sat quietly for the most part, picking at the chocolate, Remus occasionally commenting and Sirius occasionally agreeing. He didn’t take anything unless Remus offered it to him, something that he found took some restraint. He wasn’t use to being denied such trivial things. Eventually Remus scooted until he was turned around, and merely nodded in the direction of the party when Sirius raised an eyebrow. He wanted to watch. Sirius rubbed his cold shoulder softly before catching himself. He could have sworn Remus was watching the gesture, but when he really looked Remus’ eyes had darted away. The lights flickered through the leaves against his face, casting soft patterns. He offered Sirius a round truffle and Sirius took it.

He rolled it between his fingers, coating them in the bitter cocoa dust, “You like watching the dancing.”

“And you can’t cook an egg.” Remus said through a cherry sponge cake, “Anything else we’ve learned about each other?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly, smile playing at his mouth, “Yes.”

“Oh, really?”

Sirius leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “You aren’t afraid to correct me.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, taking the truffle back that Sirius had yet to eat, “You aren’t afraid to insult me.” He popped it into his mouth, “So, you’re basically saying I’m head strong and can’t dance. Anything else?”

Sirius sighed, letting his head fall back against the rough tree bark, looking at Remus threw his eyelashes, eyelids hooded, “Well. I could teach you.”

Remus dropped the sponge cake onto the grass, just missing the plate, “Wh.. Sorry?”

Already Sirius’ chest was warming at the thought. The burning desire to have Remus’ palm against his almost scared him, “I could teach you. To dance. You said you knew of the Summer’s Waltz.”

“Knew _of_. As in can’t actually do it.” Remus’ neck was flushed with unsureness.

“Yes,” Sirius drew out the word, pushing himself up, dusting his hands off on his pants, and then offering one to Remus, “And I could teach you. As in assist you until you know it.” He added the last part playfully.

Remus just looked up at Sirius, eyes raking up and down his figure and then flicking momentarily down to his own, “I’m not wearing shoes.”

Sirius considered this, then looked down. He glanced up at Remus repeatedly, smirking at the shocked expression on his face as he undid his own boots, letting the grass cool his feet. He held out his hand once more, “Neither am I.”

Remus couldn’t describe that feeling in his chest as he slowly reached out and pressed his fingers around Sirius’. It was delight. It was want. It was dread.

“You’re very persistent.” Remus grumbled.

Sirius pulled Remus up, smiling at the soft noise Remus made with the effort. The smile wavered at just how perfect the weight of Remus’ palm felt in his. He frowned slightly at their hands. He didn’t know why he was so persistent. He didn’t know why he wanted to teach Remus to dance. He looked over his shoulder, at the blurry lights of the party. He knew why he didn’t want to ask Anthea to dance. Because she was rude, and she was ghastly, and she gnawed on her lip in an attempt to be flirtatious. He turned back to Remus, eyes falling on their hands and then his face. Remus looked nervous, and he was biting his lip, but this time it made Sirius’ chest seize up. Sirius let out a breath.

_Alliances must be made, Sirius._

He knew he shouldn’t want this. He’d learned… he’d _thought_ he’d learned to control it. He’d flirted with the servant girls, even taken some of them back to his room in an attempt to prove a point, more to himself than others. He’d liked it, being with them, but he hadn’t… enjoyed it. Not exactly. 

But he wanted to teach Remus to dance. He wanted to hold his hand.

And he was a prince. Why shouldn’t he have, at least for a moment, what he wants?

He realized he had been standing there far to long only when Remus started to clear his throat and pull away.

“Um. If you’ve changed your mind-“

“No.” Sirius said quickly, “No. No, I haven’t I was just-“ He was caught off guard momentarily as Remus stopped attempting to extract his hand and it settled comfortably back into Sirius’, “I was just planning.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, “Planning?”

Sirius took a step forward, “Of sorts. Now,” Sirius took Remus’ other hand and pressed it gently to the shoulder of his arm not holding Remus’ other hand, “I’ll lead, so you’ll have to be the girl.”

Remus kicked Sirius’ shin and Sirius let out a loud fall of laughter, delighted that the joking side of Remus was back.

“Okay,” he cleared his throat as his laughter died down, “And I have my hand,” he tried to ignore the thrumming of his heart as he pressed his other hand to the small of Remus’ back, “here.” They were so close now that Remus stumbled forward, stepping on Sirius’ bare toes. He flushed but said nothing of it.

“Good?” Sirius said softly, looking down at Remus. He could feel the puffs of his breath against his neck and swallowed.

Remus looked up at him quickly, like he was taking a risk, and then straight again, eyes level with Sirius’ lips, “Good.” He coughed a little, “Next step?”

Sirius smiled, “You make it sound like we’re in the kitchen, cooking something.”

Remus flashed his eyes up again, lingering a little longer this time, and offering a smile of his own. He adjusted his hand and it ended up pressed closer to Sirius’, “Is it really that different?”

Sirius tried not to tighten his grip, “Suppose not, no…”

“So? Steps?”

Sirius jolted a little, “Yes- Yes. Yes, steps. Right.”

It was easier than Sirius had expected. Remus followed carefully and precisely for the most part, having an easier time of it once Sirius told him to step forward whenever he stepped back and vise versa. They laughed a little at small mistakes, but other than that it was only Sirius murmuring soft instructions and counting under his breath, a sound only accompanied by the settling wind in the trees. Sirius savored the way their eyes followed each other, the way only their wrists touched when the spun, and how they came back together nearly seamlessly.

Finally, Sirius lifted their hands up, pressing their fingers together until they were palm against palm, practically nose to nose, the final movement. Remus was looking at him this time, chin having to tilt upwards a little, lips parted.

“Like that?” He could feel Remus’ uneven breathing.

“Yes.” Sirius was sure his was the same. He almost couldn’t focus on the words. Remus’ hand was smooth, with a few working callouses littering the crest of his palm. His eyes were golden in the nearly faded light. “Just like that.”

Just like that. Just like that Sirius felt it in every cell of his body. His heart pumped it through his veins, his mind sparked it through his limbs. He wanted to kiss Remus. He wanted to so badly.

He stepped back, and the want dragged like a hook in his chest, attempting to drag him painfully forward once more.

“Just like that.” Sirius bent to pull his shoes back on, to hide the rapid rising of his chest, the flush on his neck, the panic and need in his eyes.

“Oh.” Sirius could see the way Remus’ now empty hand was opening and closing a few times, stretching the fingers out, “Well. Maybe once more-“

“I should probably get back to the party.” He needed a moment. Just a moment away, to regain his composer.

“Oh.” The hurt in his voice was overpowering, “Right. ‘Course you should.”

Sirius straightened, eyes almost pleading, “Not like that.” _Please don’t be angry with me._

Remus turned back around sharply from where Sirius hadn’t realized he’d turned away, “Not like what?” His tone was almost… hopeful.

Sirius had never felt so conflicted in his life. The party lights were no longer beautiful, instead they felt like they were burning into the back of his neck. He wanted to stay here, in the cool, softness of this clearing with Remus. Maybe the so-called powers could trap them there, together.

He rushed forward, closing the few steps between them and took Remus’ hand again, pressing it between his own. If he had to go back to the party, he at least needed this.

“Come to the lake tomorrow. The one on the south grounds. Can you manage? At noon.”

When Remus nodded Sirius felt a wild relief. He very well could have kissed him again.

“Say it back so I know you’ll remember.”

Remus blinked. How on earth could he forget? He said it anyway, “Lake. South grounds. Noon.”

“ _Tomorrow._ ” Sirius repeated urgently.

“Tomorrow.” Remus repeated once more, standing there until Sirius disappeared into the crowd of royals, hand warm and heart thumping.


	4. part iv

Remus felt trapped between elation and dread. Surely this didn’t mean what he hoped it did. He tried not to let himself get his hopes up, and yet, thinking of it now from the safety of his hard, flat bed, he could hardly help himself. He held the hand Sirius had grasped so tightly up in front of him, only seeing the very faint outline of it in the moonlight. Sirius had held his hand. He’d taught him to dance, barefoot in the forest, like they were old friends. _Even lovers_ , Remus dared to think. He’d brought him chocolates. He’d invited him tomorrow…

_Why me?_

Remus thought the question over and over again. Sirius no doubt had a host of friends to choose from. Not to mention James who, if all else failed, had to be at the top of the list.

_Does he hold James’ hand?_

It was a stupid question. Of course he didn’t. James liked Lily. Sirius liked… Remus closed his eyes.

_He could have been drunk?_

Remus let his hand fall back on his chest, exasperated. It seemed to be the only logical explanation, although he really had seemed quite steady. Drunk men don’t dance like that. But, then again, he’d come to Remus right under his mother’s nose. But maybe that was Sirius, maybe that’s how he is. Reckless and daring, like the princes in the fairytales. Remus gulped. When all the other boys had talked of princesses to save, he’d always preferred thinking of the prince. Privately, of course.

He wasn’t drunk. Remus knew this. So _what?_ Why?

The answer Remus wanted to hear streamed to the front of his mind, although he never quite let himself fully believe it. He wanted to believe that Sirius had felt it too, what he had felt in the kitchen that evening, in the clearing just a half hour ago. That he had felt the very same draw of the other; to the heat of skin, the pressure of hands, the uneven breaths. Remus closed his eyes and felt it all again, but as a memory. It wasn’t the same. He wanted tomorrow to come. He fell asleep thinking of warm hands and mischievous eyes.

~

Sirius’ breathing was shallow as his mother led him back inside, into a private room, away from the lights of the party. She was wordless, only her shoes scuffing against the stone floor, muffled only by her long dress and cape. She had worn her crown, as she always, always did, and it did not move on her head, her neck like an unyielding column. Her silence made Sirius fear the worst. As soon as the door were closed however, the silence was broken. And in the worst way.

The smack of skin against skin rang through the room and Sirius’ head snapped to the left. He felt the sting of her rings slice the delicate skin that covered his cheek bone and he bit his tongue so as not to cry out.

 _It was worth it_. He told himself, _Remus. He is worth this._

“Where were you?” His mother’s voice was murderously calm, “Answer me.”

Sirius tasted blood, “My apologies-“

 _Smack._ This time the rings cut downwards, catching on his lip and splitting it wide. Sirius felt something wet on his chin but still, he did not fall.

 _“Answers.”_ His mother’s voice was more growl than woman.

“I got sidetracked. I did not realize the time. I ran into Lucius the nobleman and time wasted away to politics.”

The lies slid easily from his split lips.

“ _Politics._ ” She spat, “You? You expect me to believe- You’ve just ruined what would have been an outstanding match for this family. Do you have any idea the _power_ , the _wealth_ that girl could have offered us-“

“Us?” Sirius shot back, “You wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life with her!”

His mother’s lip curled, “You ungrateful, despicable-“

“My Queen.”

Sirius did not turn towards the messenger boy. He mustn’t see his bloodied face.

His mother straightened, face flattening to barely contained rage, “Speak.”

Sirius didn’t hear the message, only felt the glare in his direction and heard the door slam behind his mother as she followed the servant boy out.

As soon as he was alone he let himself fall. His knees hit the stone floor heavily, his wrists spiking with pain as the trembled with the effort to keep him somewhat upright. He breathed deeply, willing the swirling panic to cease.

_She is gone_ , he told himself, _she is gone now_. He raised his hand to his face and his fingertips came back painted with thick red that dripped into the cracks on the stone floor.

Sirius pushed himself up, using the back passages to get to his room and locking himself in for the night, not ringing for James.

He stumbled his way into his bathroom, feeling almost terrified to look in the mirror. He hoped and prayed that the amount of blood was deceiving him, that it wasn’t as bad as it felt. He was let down at first glance.

His cheek was purpling and swollen, the bruise spreading towards the crescent of skin under his eye. It would be swollen half way shut by the morning. His lip was the same and grotesque. He cursed, taking a clean cloth to the basin of water and soaking it fully, bringing the coolness to his face. Then, turning without glancing in the mirror again, he fell into bed still clothed, with only one thought on his mind.

_Remus cannot see._

Perhaps the reason behind this thought was also pride, but, for the most part, it felt like shame. A shame he had felt bloom in his chest regularly since he was a child. He would not show his face.

~

Remus woke the next morning with a headache, finding that the dread and hope that had come at Sirius’ request still were at war in his head. He tried to sensibly talk himself down from the hope side. The dread, if things went as he expected them to, would be easier to handle in the end. Hope doesn’t give into grief as easily as dread does. He told himself this as he punched in the day’s bread dough he had set to rise last night. It was four in the morning now. Noon. He had until noon.

_Say it back so I know you’ll remember_

How, _how_ could he forget?

Remus pushed the heel of his palm into the cool dough, trying to focus on the repetitive motion. Pressing and folding, needing and punching. It only seemed to succeed in riling him further, allowing the emotion he truly wanted to suppress to bubble to the surface: excitement. He couldn’t allow it. He shouldn’t allow it. But as he stood, nimble fingers now twisting the brioche for breakfast into delicate twists and knots, it spread quickly through his chest. He wanted to meet Sirius. In fact, he wasn’t sure how he would be expected to wait nearly eight hours until then. He’d have to keep himself busy. He would start on the servant’s dinner after this. A stew would take the longest to prepare, and he’d let it simmer all day. The meat would be tender and it would take enough time to prepare. Then Mrs. Potter and the rest of the servants came down to prepare breakfast and wake the court. That would be at least another hour and a half of the blissful distraction of eggs and bacon, salmon and toast. Maybe he would offer to prepare the orange juice. No, too repetitive. He needed something that wasn’t mindless. He would do the eggs. He’d definitely have to focus then. He’d have to mind the heat and the consistency and then make sure they were still hot when they got sent up to-

Sirius.

Remus froze mid bread knot. He was always in charge of Sirius’ breakfast, there was no doubt today would be the same. Remus swallowed, an odd sort of thrill filling him that made it nearly impossible to keep the smile from his face. Maybe he could allow himself this. This small thing, this regular thing that now had a new world of connection. Sirius did _know_ his breakfast came from Remus’ hands now. Maybe he could send up a note, tuck it into his napkin or under the plate where he would find it when he picked up his carefully placed fork. It was risky. It couldn’t be seen. But Remus couldn’t resist. He needed some little piece of his day among all this waiting to be dedicated to Sirius. He hated that a little bit. He would hide it well. No one needed to know.

He heard a creak from upstairs—Mrs. Potter—and tried his best to shake himself of his stupid grin, picking up the trays of bread for the oven.

~

Sirius woke to James accidentally rattling his breakfast tray and cursing.

“Shit. Sorry. You awake?”

Sirius opened his mouth without opening his eyes to respond with some sarcastic, not-so-charming remark but shut it firmly again when he felt the sharp sting of his split lip. He swallowed, opening his eyes—eye. One felt almost completely swollen shut. He hadn’t even thought to decline a wake up call. He usually was always so careful. He didn’t like James—anyone—to know if he could help it but, with James, he rarely could.

“Sirius,” James sing-songed, “Come on, mate. This is heavy.”

Sirius took a breath, then rolled over and sat up with as much dignity as he could manage. His eyes flickered to James’ face and he winced at the look on it. He knew how bad day old bruises looked.

“Morning,” He rasped shakily, “That for me?”

“Jesus…” James quickly sat the tray on Sirius’ thighs, then sat on the edge of the bed, warm fingers pressing to his jaw and tilting his face towards him to get a better look at his lip. His brows pulled together, “Jesus, Sirius.”

Sirius looked away, “My mother, actually.”

“This isn’t funny. Stop- god- I hate-“ James rose angrily from the bed, proceeding to pace across the fireplace opposite it, “She can’t just-“

“Actually she can.” Sirius sighed, “Unfortunately.”

James threw his hands out, exasperated, and gave a breathy, bitter laugh, “ _Unfortunately?_ Unfortunately? God, I cannot _wait_ for her to croak and for you to-“

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a substitute for the smirk he knew would hurt too much, and unfolded his napkin, “Careful James.”

“No.” James was pacing more insistently now, “No, I know you don’t like to talk about it but…”

But Sirius was no longer listening, as a small bit of parchment had fluttered from the folds of his napkin and onto the sheets beside him. Instantly, his heartbeat sped with hope. His breakfast has never come with a note before, although, that was before he knew the maker. He glanced in James’ direction, making sure he was still talking (to himself) and unfolded the note. Sirius grinned. He couldn’t even feel the pain of his lip.

_You taght me_  
_to dance_  
_Gess I have to teech you_  
_to cook an egg now_

Sirius ran his fingers over the messy scrawl. He read it again and again and again. The writing slanted to the left, it was nearly illegible. Clearly it had been written in rushed secrecy. Some words were spelled wrong and for that Sirius adored it even more. The double “e” in _teach_. The lack of “u” in _taught_ and _guess_. He turned it over, hoping for more.

His smile fell.

He was not disappointed.

_I have not forgotten_

His heart warmed at the sentence, but his body went cold.

He cleared his throat, “James.”

James huffed, “I know, I know. I don’t have the training but just keep in mind that kings can do anything.” He paused, “Almost. Meaning you should absolutely feel free to make me part of your king’s guard. If you wanted. At any time.”

Sirius blinked. The lack of context caused a laugh to spring free and he suddenly partially wished he had been listening to the rant. James did like this conversation point quite a lot.

“And have to miss all of these useful conversations because you’re standing outside my door all day? I don’t think so. Fetch Pomfrey for me, would you? I want this to heal up quickly.” He squeezed the note in his hand, “As soon as possible.”

James sniffed, patting his heart, “That was almost nice.”

“ _Fetch_.” Sirius pointed his fork at the door, note clutched almost desperately in the other. He needed time he didn’t have. He closed his eyes when the door shut behind James. He felt it now, the shame from last night, in every spike of pain from his lip, in every pulse of blood in his eye. He felt it.

~

Remus tilted his chin up towards the noon sun greedily, almost thanking it for being so high in the sky. The long grasses of the south grounds tickled his ankles and the soles of his feet as he made his way to the lake Sirius had specified. He’d been once before with James and a few of his friends. A boy named Peter who seemed nice enough given the fact that he was to King Orion as James was to Sirius. It couldn’t be easy spending all that time with… that. Lily, the house maid, whom he liked very much and who he knew better now, had come along after much convincing from James. Her and James clearly doted on each other. He’d asked Lily about it once and she’d sent him to fetch some linens from the upstairs cupboard instead. Lily had brought a few of her friends along; sweet, quiet Alice and headstrong Marlene. They had been followed by some others, an equal mass of boys and girls—most of which eyed James the entire time with either jealousy or lust. Someone had brought wine and figs from the kitchens and it had turned into something of a party.

Remus dug his toes into the rocky sand of the shore. It was quieter now. He liked it better this way.

Remus looked back at the castle then down at himself. He had changed out of that morning’s shirt, but even this one looked ratty. Like everything else he owned, the seams were fraying and it was littered with untouchable stains.

_Sirius would look good in even this._

He laughed softly to himself at the thought. He shouldn’t think it, but it was true. Sirius had looked good the first night, if not hopelessly tired and arrogant, in his maroon robe, the gold stitching glinting off his skin. He’d looked good barefoot, in only his billowing tie-up shirt and trousers, with fluffy post-swim hair. Remus wondered if he’d get to see that again today. And he’d looked good dressed in forest-like, velvety greens and browns, soft curls splaying around the tops of his ears. A prince ready to be presented to his subjects. Each memory was devastatingly imprinted in Remus’ thoughts. He wanted see what he would look like today, what new version he would be granted with.

Slightly breathless, Remus sat down on a warm patch of sand and waited, nerves and need coming threw in his drumming fingertips.

Remus waited.

And waited. And waited and waited. And Sirius didn’t come. And his heart got heavier with each fading degree of sunlight.

And Sirius didn’t come.

And he was right.

Grief doesn’t give easily into hope.

~

Remus doesn’t sleep for hours after he lays down. He can’t decide if he’s more angry or hurt. He thinks of the four hours he sat in the sand, back aching and hopes falling. Angry, he decides. Definitely angry. He should have known better, to be quite honest. A prince. _Why would a prince ever, for a second want-_

Remus closes his eyes, brow creasing. A play thing. A time passer. That’s what he was. He should have seen it earlier.

He must have fallen asleep, or at least dozed off, because he is lulled awake by his door creaking in very separate and short bursts. Like someone is trying to open it very, very slowly.

He’s alert in a moment, pushing up onto his elbows. The moonlight offers a silhouette but nothing more. Tall, broad shouldered.

“James? Who’s there?” His voice comes out softer and hoarser than he would have liked.

The figure lets out a breath and opens and closes the door in one swoop, leaning against it, “No. Does James often pay you midnight visits?“

 _What?_ “Sirius?”

“Yes.”

Remus, in utter bewilderment, moves for the matches and candle on his bedside, when Sirius’ voice cuts him off.

“No, no don’t light your candle. Please.”

It sounds panicked, pleading. He’s never heard Sirius sound like that before.

“What? Sirius, why? What are you-“

“I’ve only come to apologize. That is all.”

Remus lowers his hands, not reaching anymore, and sighs. He thinks for a moment, before shifting to press his pillow to the headboard to sit against and looks back to Sirius’ outline against the door.

“Quite right, too.”

Sirius lets out a breath and—quite _presumptuously_ —and to Remus’ great delight—comes and sits cross-legged at the end of Remus’ bed. The moonlight still does not reach his face.

“I had…something came up. As things do for someone like me. I didn’t know how to reach you.”

 _For someone like me_. Always the constant reminder, even on accident.

“I’m missing the apology part.” Sirius let out a breath and Remus glared, not sure if he could see it or not, “I sat there for four hours, I’m not going to let you off easy-“

“I’m _sorry_. I am, Remus.”

The second time hearing his name from Sirius’ mouth had no less of an effect. Remus desperately hoped his own face was just as invisible to Sirius as Sirius’ was to him. He was sure it had softened quite a bit, even as he tries to knot together the last scraps of his anger.

“Well.” Remus stretches his legs out, remembering too late that Sirius is there. His toes press into the warm skin of Sirius’ calves and he jerks back, bringing his knees to his chest. His heart has triple in speed, at least.

“Are you going to tell me why we’re sitting in the dark?”

Sirius ignores his question, “Your toes are freezing.”

Remus feels his cheeks burning, “It’s an odd request. To talk in the dark.”

“Don’t you have slippers?” It’s almost _concern_ in his voice.

“No.” Remus huffs. He clearly isn’t going to get an answer, “No, Sirius, I don’t have slippers. There are more important things in life.”

“Not when one’s toes are cold, there aren’t.”

“What an interesting philosophy.” Remus can’t help but laugh.

And just like that. He isn’t angry anymore.

Sirius laughs too, then harder when Remus makes a startled noise at the warm fingers that are suddenly closing around his ankles, pulling them forward again.

“Wh- Sirius, what are you-“

“Christ, even your ankles are cold. Do you sleep under blankets at all?”

Remus, still startled by the fact that Sirius’ hands are still pressing softly into his skin, can barely choke out a response, “You know, this is getting borderline offensive again.”

He hears Sirius suck in a breath, “Oh. I didn’t mean it. I’m- I-“

“It’s okay.” And, in truth, Remus had been half joking, “You just said sorry, I won’t make you say it twice.”

Sirius is quiet for a moment more, then Remus straightens at something extraordinarily soft and extraordinarily warm encompassing his feet, first his left, then his right. He wiggles his toes, feeling some sort of fur slide against them, feels soft leather just below his ankles.

 _Slippers. Sirius’_ slippers.

“Any better?” Sirius says softly. His palms are still resting on the tops of Remus’ feet, warming where the shoes don’t reach.

Remus swallows thickly, nodding before he realizes they are still in the dark.

“Yes.” He croaks out, “These are… warm. My room is always cold. ”

“That’s terrible.” Sirius sighs, like it’s the worst thing in the world. Maybe to him, it is.

“I manage.” Sirius probably doesn’t have a clue what it’s like to manage, “Aren’t you cold now?”

“No.” Sirius says, and Remus realizes that they’re both whispering now, “No, not at all.”

It should be strange, sitting there like that in the dark, but all Remus feels is an overwhelming sense of comfort. He doesn’t understand it, he doesn’t know why Sirius is here. He doesn’t understand why they’re sitting in the dark or why Sirius is touching him so calmly. The contact alights something in him, he can’t deny it. It warms him almost as quickly as the slippers had. He presses his hands to his thighs, feeling safe, feeling unsteady. He wants to want this more than anything.

_Push it down, leave it be._

“Sirius.”

“Hm?” Sirius’ voice came out just as strained as his, quiet among the silence that surrounded them. His thumbs were rubbing softly over the tops of Remus’ feet, pressing into the bone of his ankle. Remus didn’t know if Sirius realized he was doing it, but he never wanted him to stop.

“Are you going to tell me why we’re sitting in the dark?” He asks gently.

“No.” Sirius says it back just as gently.

Remus hesitates, then gives into his instinct. Sirius didn’t seem to have any problem with contact so why should he? He scoots forward, very careful to keep his feet where they are. His knees press up to his chest again and he rests his hands atop of Sirius’. He feels Sirius let out a breath across his cheek, and realizes how close they are. He can still see almost nothing. Maybe a slope of a nose, the part of lips.

 _Forget_ his mind screams it at him but he can barely hear it. Not when Sirius is _right there._

“Sirius.”

“Hm?” More strained now.

“Are you alright?”

Sirius didn’t respond for a long while, and Remus didn’t push. He let Sirius mull through his thoughts in his own time. When he finally did speak, he turned his palms up first, fingers looping around Remus’ palms, thumbs pressing into the pulse points on his wrists. Remus hoped he couldn’t feel how hard his heart was beating.

“Where are you from?”

Remus almost protested against the change of subject, but the tone in Sirius’ voice was just enough to make him let Sirius lead him where he wanted.

“Right here.” He said, “The village.”

Sirius was quiet for a moment again and Remus pictured him nodding thoughtfully, his thumbs had started running slowly over the insides of Remus’ wrists, “What did your father do?”

Remus focused on Sirius’ soft touch and closed his eyes, making the darkness even darker, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

Remus took a deep breath, “No. I grew up in the orphanage. I was put there when I was three years old but, I don’t know, it’s all I remember.”

“What?”

Remus recognizes the familiar tone and risks giving Sirius’ hands a little squeeze. He notes how natural it feels. He hadn’t expected Sirius to let this linger so long, but neither of them seemed to want to pull away.

“It isn’t the sob story you’re thinking of right now.” He assures Sirius, “My family was poor. They realized they couldn’t raise me. The orphanage said I was barely alive when I arrived. It was a good thing.” He said it like lines from a play, lines he’d said over and over to anyone who looked concerned. It wasn’t a long list of people.

“You grew up without a family.” Sirius’ voice sounds off through the darkness. He’s holding Remus’ hands tighter now, even pulling a little towards him. Remus wants so badly to give into that pull.

“Yes, and no. You learn to make families along the way. Home doesn’t always have to be blood, you know.”

“I hate my blood.” Sirius’ voice is hushed and fierce, “I’m not allowed, but I do.”

Remus was slightly taken aback by this statement. He somewhat knew Sirius’ thoughts on his parents—his mother, at least—but to say that he hated his _blood_ , so boldly… That implied he hated who he was. He didn’t expect that from Sirius. He wants so badly to see his face right now, to see his eyes as he let the forbidden phrase slip. Remus thought for a moment, “Maybe you’re not allowed to show it, but they can’t really do anything about what your heart says, can they?”

Sirius’ voice comes after a slight pause, and when it does, there’s an unbearable note of hopelessness to it, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“You should be.” Remus says simply. He doesn’t know if Sirius realizes how much meaning that phrase holds.

Sirius’ hands relax into Remus’. Remus didn’t even dare twitch a finger in case he pulled away.

 _I want to kiss you_. He could map out each small motion it would take to reach that goal.

Remus bit hard into his tongue. His mind would think little else. _Forgetforgetfor-_

“I visited once, you know. That orphanage.”

Remus swallows, “I know.”

“Mum made me walk around all proper, nodding and waving. She thought going would make me appear… I don’t know, like I’d make a good king someday. Kind. Not that she’d know much about that.” Sirius’s silhouette visibly stiffened, “I mean…I think it just made the kids hate me. I probably looked so…” Sirius sighed, “I don’t know. Actually, come to think of it, you must have been there when I went.”

Remus lets out a breath, “I was.”

“Do you remember?” Sirius’ voice almost sounded excited, “Did you see me?”

_Yes. And you saw me._

_Why, did you really expect him to remember?_

Remus nodded, “Yeah, I remember. We, well, we actually spoke.” He feels Sirius’ fingers tense in his own and he pushes on, “It wasn’t much. I mean, we didn’t say much…”

Sirius doesn’t respond and Remus can picture him racking his brain, trying to place this conversation.

“You were just plain rude, honestly.” Remus laughs somewhat nervously.

Sirius lets out a similar sound, “What else is new?” Then a few moments later, “What did we speak of?”

Remus let out another hushed laugh, “You told me that I looked like the living dead,” Remus hesitated a moment at Sirius’ intake of breath, “and… I told you that you were probably right. And that was it. You got pulled away.”

“Well.” Sirius shifted his fingers along Remus’ knuckles and somehow Remus knew he was looking down in the direction of their hands, “Turns out you’ve been out smarting me since before I can even remember, then.”

Remus can hear his smile and _god, I want to see your face._

“Yeah,” he says softly, “turns out.”

Remus wished the sky would lighten. Even a little. Then again he didn’t. Because that would mean time passing and he wasn’t sure he would mind staying in this moment for a little longer, hands warm, feet warm, head foggy with Sirius’ presence, his touch.

“Did you enjoy the rest of the party then?” He needed to distract himself.

Sirius let out a breathy laugh, “Not particularly, no. Did you?”

Remus shook his head in the darkness, “Not particularly. Not as fun dancing alone.”

Sirius let out a snort, “Were you practicing by yourself?”

“You’re the one who refused to give me another go!” Remus smiled into the dark.

Sirius laughed again, a sound that ended with a strange hiss, as if he had been stung or burned by something, then regained its humor quickly. One hand briefly leaving Remus’, then settled back palm to palm. Remus knit his eyebrows.

“Right. We’ll just have to do it again some time.”

Remus’ heart jumped, “Won’t be ditching me this time, will you?”

“No, no definitely not.” Sirius’ laugh ended with the same intake of breath as before, “I swear it.”

Remus’ brows pulled lower. He stayed quiet, mind slowly working. Something was wrong. He’d been distracted before, but something was off. he could hear it in Sirius’ words, how he said them carefully, gingerly even.

“You didn’t fall asleep on me, did you?” Sirius voice came a few moments later, “Because, honestly-“

“Are you hurt?” Remus cut in.

It would make sense. No lights, the hiss that sounded like it hurt whenever he laughed. He’d heard Sirius make that noise the very first night he met him and burned his hand.

Sirius shifted, making the bed move, “What? No, what makes you say that?”

“You’re hiding something. You-“ Remus raised an eyebrow, proud of himself for figuring it out, “You didn’t want me to see something today, did you?”

“Remus.” Sirius’ voice was much more somber than before. He said his name like he was speaking to a subject, like it was a command. It made Remus angry and it made a shiver run down his spine at the same time, “Don’t. Drop this.”

“You _are_. You- Sirius, did someone-“

“I said drop it.” Sirius’ hands were suddenly gone from his own. It was an odd sensation. Remus knew he was still on the bed, right there, but not being able to feel him anymore put miles between them.

Remus pushed this time. He pushed because he didn’t think he could stand another period of silence. Not so soon. Not when he now knew what it was like to have Sirius’ breath on his cheek, his fingers on his skin.

“No, you know I can help-“

“I don’t _need_ help-“ Sirius’ words were shaky, said between teeth.

“There’s no use lying to me-“

“I only came to apologize!“

“Shh!”

Remus reached out blindly, pressing a hand over Sirius’ mouth to stop his voice from ringing around the room and reaching through the walls. Sirius flinched at the contact, biting back a groan and turning his face away. Remus felt the soft skin of his cheek run under his fingers. He felt his lips.. just for a moment. They both froze, breathing quickly.

“I know. And you have.” Remus said between breaths, hand falling slowly to rest on Sirius’ shoulder. Anything to feel him there again, “Please. Just let me see. I won’t,” Remus cut Sirius’ protests off, “I won’t ask questions if you don’t want me to.”

He could feel the rise and fall of Sirius’ chest.

“Please, Sirius.”

He felt the nod.

Remus leaned away just long enough to grab his candle, and struck the match.

“God.” The word was soft and sad. Sirius’ face was the same in the yellow glow of the fire, but littered with angry blackish bruises. One eye was swollen and blackened, making the delicate skid underneath it the color of summer plums. Dried blood made angry red lines the crevices of cracked skin. His lip looked raw and aching. Remus swallowed, hurting at the sight, “Who-“

“You said no questions.” Sirius said quietly, not meeting Remus’ eyes.

Remus’ heart ached at the look on Sirius’ face. He looked… ashamed. He looked embarrassed. Had he been beaten in a fight? Is that what he did in his spare time? Remus tried to push down his dislike at this notion. He didn’t know anything. He shouldn’t assume. He nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right. No questions.” He looked a moment more before sliding off the bed and turning back to Sirius who still hadn’t moved, “Come with me, yeah?”

The kitchen lit up when they walked in, Remus’ candlelight reflecting off the various pots and pans that hung from the ceiling racks. It threw Sirius’ beaten face into a harsher contrast and Remus winced, quickly setting the light down and moving to the cupboards. From the corner of his eye he saw Sirius move to lift himself onto the counter and stopped him.

“I’ll sit there, you stand.” Sirius blinked at him and Remus turned away so Sirius would miss the flush that crossed his cheeks at his next words, “That way we’ll be level.”

“Oh. Right.” Remus could hear the threatening smirk behind his words. Only Sirius would take such pleasure in his height.

When Remus turned back around Sirius was leaning patiently against the countertop, arms crossed, and heavy lidded gaze trained on Remus. His eyes flickered downward to the flower in his hand,

“Oh. Pomfrey used that on me. Earlier today.” Sirius picked up one of the small pinkish flowers, “What is it?”

Remus smiled a little, pleased at knowing something Sirius didn’t, “It’s called Comfrey. Helps with swelling. Some people call it bone-knitter too. Does miracles for broken fingers, I’ll tell you that.”

“Bone-knitter.” Sirius said thoughtfully, “Sounds like something one of my cousins would name their sword.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, “Which kind?”

Sirius snorted then winced and brought a finger to his lip, “The _metal_ kind. Fiend.” Sirius grinned when he caught Remus’ eye.

“You wouldn’t name your sword that?” Remus started ripping the petals up.

Sirius scoffed, but sounded slightly embarrassed, “I don’t _name_ my swords.”

“Hm. I don’t believe you.”

Sirius laughed and bumped Remus’ shoulder with his.

Remus smiled too, more because Sirius was smiling than at his own joke. He reached across the table for the granite mortar, dragging it towards him and dropping the torn petals in.

“What’s that do?” Sirius was right over his shoulder now, his breath on his neck.

“It grinds it up.” Remus cleared his throat, trying to rid his voice of the nervous tremor, “So I can make a paste and get the healing..”

“Properties.” Sirius supplied.

“Properties.” Remus sent him a small smile, trying to ignore the embarrassed twinge in his cheeks, “So I can get the healing properties out.” Remus ground with his left hand. It would be slower, but he wasn’t willing to ask Sirius to move.

Sirius hummed, still twirling a stray flower between his fingers.

“Okay,” Remus huffed, “budge over so I can sit.”

Remus lifted himself as gracefully as he could onto the counter, turning briefly to swipe some of the paste up with his fingers, before turning back to Sirius. Sirius who had already placed himself conveniently between Remus’ slightly opened knees, palms resting on either side of his outer thighs. Remus blinked, chest tightening uncomfortably in the best way. Sirius sent him grin, leaning onto his palms, inviting Remus in. He smelled like summer and nighttime and warmth.

Remus sent him a wry one back, “It won’t hurt. In case you were wondering again.”

“Don’t worry, I trust you.” Sirius’ grin was still painted on his face.

The phrase made Remus sink his teeth into his lower lip, and he shook his head a little, making Sirius laugh, “Hold still, yeah? Don’t get all flinchy on me.”

Sirius rolled his eyes.

Remus took a bigger breath than necessary before he reached out. His fingers cupped Sirius’ jaw in a way that, Remus realized too late, was heart-stoppingly similar to the way he would if he were about to-

“Second time you’ve patched me up, you know.” Sirius’ voice sounded like a liquid version of the soft candlelight flickering around them.

Remus’ eyes flickered to his briefly before back to where his thumb was now slowly smoothing the paste over Sirius’ high cheekbone, the angry red cut disappearing under the purplish mix, “Hm. What does that tell us?” Remus replied just as softly.

“That,” Sirius hesitated, and Remus blinked up at him when when he felt something soft tuck into the hair over his ear. He reached up with his other hand and felt the flower Sirius had taken there, the petals soft against his temple, “I might just have to keep you around.”

Remus’ chest felt warm. Is that really what Sirius wanted? To be…with Remus. Whatever that meant to him. As much as Remus hated to admit it, he knew he would take any version of those words. With his hand still pressing softly to Sirius’ cheek and Sirius standing so close, he was in too deep to back out now. There was no forgetting now, “Well.” He wasn’t spreading the paste anymore but he didn’t move his hand, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sirius’ eyebrows moved fractionally downwards, the faintest hint of worry etching itself into his brow, “You’re sure?”

Remus tilted his head a little, not sure what this meant. He answered anyway, “Yes.” It felt like the right answer. He couldn’t imagine giving any other answer.

Sirius nodded minutely, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth then wincing, “Oh. You missed a spot.”

Sirius’ nose could have been nudging against Remus’ if he just leaned in a little. Remus’ heart beat at the thought, “I… You can’t- I mean, I can’t put it on your… you can’t ingest this. It’d poison you.”

“Hm.” Remus heard Sirius say before his eyes slipped closed of their own accord as he felt Sirius’ forehead press to his. Sirius’ voice was a whisper, “You’d lose your head for that.”

“Yeah..” Remus could barely speak. His beating heart had replaced every other one of his body’s functions, Sirius’ forehead against his and his hands pressing to his thighs had replaced every thought, “I would.”

And no, there was no forgetting now. Not with Sirius tilting his chin forward and pressing his lips to Remus’, mouth careful and warm. Not with his hand sliding up to rest on Remus’ hip.

Remus could never forget this.

He kissed back, matching Sirius’ pressure, hand pressing to Sirius’ chest. His shirt was like fine silk under his fingertips, and he moved his hand to rest against Sirius’ neck. The feeling of his skin was even finer. Warm and alive and soft.

Sirius pulled back for air and Remus could feel his shuttering breaths. He felt powerful and nervous all at once.

“I’m sorry.” Sirius breathed and Remus’ chest caught.

_No, don’t be, kiss me again._

“You are?”

Sirius, to Remus’ surprise, let out a laugh, one that sounded almost close to a tearful one but not sad, “No.”

With relief, Remus gave his neck a soft squeeze, noting Sirius’ wince, “Do I need to make there all better too?” He couldn’t feel any wounds but they could have been hidden by the fabric of Sirius’ shirt.

“No.” Sirius said quickly again, and then he bumped his nose against Remus’ to soften it, “No. I’m alright.”

Remus bumped his nose back, half relishing in the fact that he was even able to do that, half scared that Sirius would pull away at any moment, as he had at the party, “You should learn not to say things you don’t mean.”

Sirius let out a sigh that was probably suppose to sound light but didn’t, “Yes. You’re right. Always right.”

“That’s probably the most useful thing you know.”

“God.” Sirius laughed, thumb rubbing lazily against Remus’ side. Remus had never felt anything so soothing. Despite himself, he suppressed a yawn, “Tired?” Sirius said gently.

“No.”

Sirius smiled, “You should learn not to say things you don’t mean.”

Remus grinned, “Yes, yes. I’m tired. You woke me up.”

Sirius’ eyes went from bright to sad in a moment, thumb coming to a stop, “I can’t stay.”

Remus felt the sadness too, but his mind also filled with _that means he wants to. That means he wants to stay_. “I know. You probably shouldn’t. You know, speaking of losing one’s head.”

One side of Sirius’ mouth twitched upward, “Right. Can’t have that. Got a country to run.”

And just like that, something felt off. Remus tried not to let his smile drop. _Always a reminder_. This boy, standing in his arms, was not attainable.

He pushed that thought away and allowed Sirius to guide him from the table, hands holding his in a way that felt entirely new, and back up the stairs to his bed. As he laid down he pretended for a moment that Sirius was going to lay next to him. He wouldn’t. He probably never would.

Sirius stood for a moment, lit only by the soft light of the candle. His bruises looked worse like this, but Remus found he could see past them to the eyes that looked more blue than grey in the yellow light.

“I’d like it, you know.”

“Like what?” Remus said slowly.

“To learn to cook an egg.”

Remus grinned, face half covered by his pillow, “Oh, that. Well, name a time and a place. You’re the king, after all.”

Remus, in his tired state, didn’t catch the flinch this time, and was already too asleep to catch the, “Not yet.”

He wasn’t awake at all to feel the warm hand brush against his forehead.

The next morning came suddenly, like time hadn’t past, and he was surprised to find light streaming through his window and Sirius gone. He was even more surprised to find a note propped against his candle stick, scrawled in impeccably neat cursive.

_Keep the slippers._


	5. part v

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long and that it is rather shorter. I felt that the things I talked about here need to be separate from the things that are coming. Also, very sorry for the irregularity in the updates! I am now out of school so they will be more frequent! Thanks for sticking with me <3 <3 <3 <3

It appeared to be all consuming, the act of kissing someone. Sirius was slightly surprised by this. He’d kissed loads of girls before, in fact he’d done quite a bit more than simply kiss them. But he questioned it now… had he kissed them? He didn’t think so, not really.

It had never been like this before.

It had never been that each and ever act or thought his body and mind performed somehow stemmed back to the kiss, to Remus. It hadn’t even been particularly _long_. It had been rushed, lost in the heat of the moment. Wonderful, but nothing monumental as far as kissing goes. Sirius had led him to bed afterwards and forced himself to walk away. He’d apologized afterwards and taken it back. As far as kissing goes, it honestly should be considered rather awful. But it wasn’t.

Sirius felt slightly sick with nerves, standing there surrounded by the whirling action of of the First Bloom Ball preparations. Stray petals scattered themselves on the floors of the long hallways, having fallen off of the millions of bouquets that were being transported into every part of the castle imaginable. Noble and servant girls alike stood around in groups, chattering and working excitedly, hoping desperately that they would receive a bloom from whichever boy it was they dreamt about. It was rumored that the one who gave you the bloom was the one who remained yours forever. Sirius allowed himself a small smile at this. The idea had never appealed to him until now. Then again, the idea had never applied to him either. It still didn’t but he allowed the smile all the same.

Sirius felt the eyes of many on him as he strode about the room. He knew it was because of the party, but he couldn’t help but notice the eyes lingering on his head more than his face, or, more specifically, his crown. He didn’t make a habit of wearing it about but it was one of those days that his mother had insisted. She did that occasionally. He liked it fine and all. It sat comfortably, if not a bit heavily, but he could definitely do without the attention—something he knew his mother valued above all else. He only made the mistake of making eye contact twice before the barely repressed squeals that followed taught him to keep his eyes pleasantly aloof from any one person, discreetly searching for the dark mass of hair that was James. He finally spotted it peaking out from behind a particularly large bouquet. He pulled on his jacket some, straightening it, before all but speed walking over to him, waiting by the double doorway then falling into step with his stride.

“James.”

James’ face appeared between two pink peonies, “S-“ His face straightened, eyes glancing around, “Your Royal Highne-“

“My mum isn’t here. Can you come?”

James heaved out a sigh as he let the vase carefully down on the table, dusting various shades of what looked like pollen from his shirt. Sirius distastefully glanced only briefly at the yellow stains it left behind.

James raised an eyebrow, “I’m thinking you’re forgetting that status of our relationship.”

Sirius blinked, “What?”

James raised both eyebrows now, offering a smile, “Sirius, it isn’t a matter of if I can come. If you want me somewhere, I go.”

Sirius knew this wasn’t meant as a blow. James was probably joking, relieved that he was getting out of work. But it was true. James couldn’t refuse. Sirius thought briefly back to the way Remus had kicked him out that night of the chocolate cake. The heat that was becoming familiar to him very quickly filled his chest at the memory and he motioned his head for James to follow him. He was doing this. He could do this. This was James.

Sirius walked until they were nearly half way across the castle, in the predictably quiet West parlor. He motioned for James to shut the door.

“What’s this about? I can’t be gone for too long. My mum would have my head.”

Sirius could have laughed at his particular choice of words if he hadn’t been so bloody nervous.

“Well, I’m certainly about to tell you something that could cost me mine.”

James froze half way between standing and sitting on the couch. He rose again, “Come again?”

Sirius sighed and pushed on his shoulders until he plopped down on the cushions, then sat on the lean wooden table across from him. He took a shaky breath, lacing his fingers together across his knees. He went to open his mouth, but suddenly found that his jaw wouldn’t cooperate.

James spluttered, “Mate, you can’t lead with a phrase like that then sit on it.” He waited a moment more then shoved Sirius’ shoulder, “ _Come on_.”

“I kissed someone.”

James blinked, mouth falling open in surprise. Sirius suddenly wished there was a fire crackling, or a rainstorm outside, anything to fill the silence.

“Oh.” James shook his head a little then laughed, “Well, what’s so bad about that? Your mum doesn’t approve of her?”

Sirius looked at him.

The realization spread quickly over James face and he nodded again, “Oh… Oh. Does- Does she know?”

“No one knows.” Sirius said quickly, “You know, I know, and- and…she knows.” Sirius swallowed.

Sirius felt like he was swallowing over his heart. He surprised himself with just how desperate he was to shout that it wasn’t a _she_ , and that it hadn’t felt like just a kiss.

James went to speak again, but Sirius held up his hand, suddenly glad he had some power of James. He didn’t know how many questions he could lie his way through.

“Just listen, alright?” He sat back, letting his hand rest nervously against his thigh once more, “I need you to do something.”

~

Remus had spent the better part of the minutes between three and four in the morning running his hands over the soft fur of Sirius’ slippers over and over. By the time he had to get ready, he almost felt guilty stashing them away in his tiny moldy trunk at the base of his bed, underneath a pile of old shirts. The flower too, that had somehow remained tucked into his hair, got flattened between the pages of an old book he found in there. Maybe it was more sadness than guilt. Things so wonderful shouldn’t even been associated with such items, much less wedged between them.

He missed the feeling of the soft leather against his heels. He swallowed. He missed the feeling of Sirius’ hands on his skin. His mouth…

There was a hiss from in front of him and he jolted backwards at the steam issuing from the nearly over boiling pot of tomato soup.

“Shit.” He crouched, using the long iron tongs to push the heavy pan to the side, away from the flames, causing the bubbling to subside.

“Since when are you such a day dreamer?”

Remus turned his head to Mrs. Potter who was giving him a sly smile over her steadily growing mound of peeled potatoes. He offered her a slightly sheepish, slightly tight one of his own, “No. I mean- yes. I mean, sorry. I don’t know where I was.”

Mrs. Potter laughed, “Don’t apologize for dreaming, Remus. If anything apologize for the swearing.” Her eyes were kind and reflected the firelight warmly, “But never for the dreaming.”

Remus had to turn his head away. He didn’t want her to see his face fall, his grin succumb to uneasiness. He let the soup swing back into place and eased the fire down to a bluish flicker, then stood and dusted his hands on his apron.

He hesitated a moment, hands pressed to his thighs, before turning around slowly on his heel, “Um. While we’re… I… Just, about dreaming…”

Mrs. Potter’s knife flew on the potatoes and she didn’t look up, but hummed in a way that let him know he had her complete attention. Remus was glad for the lack of eye contact.

“If you…” He paused, desperately trying to think of his words carefully and quickly at the same time, “If you… have something. A dream. Something good, but you know…” he walked forward, pressing his hands to the cool counter top, “you know it isn’t going to last, this dream. This something good…” Mrs. Potter finally looked up at him, fingers stilling, and Remus swallowed before finishing, “do you think it’s worth it? Dreaming it up at all?”

Mrs. Potter looked at him for a moment thoughtfully, then went right back to peeling, “Hm.” She took a breath, “There’s a tale of two brothers. They’re walking in the forest and they come across a stone.” Remus looked at her quizzically but she pressed on, “On the stone are instructions on how to live ten years of pure bliss and happiness, full of riches and power. One brother follows them. He climbs a mountain, he wrestles a bear, he crosses a stream until he comes to a house that holds an enchantress that gives him what he came for. The brother becomes king of a large village with all the money and happiness one could want.” She hands Remus a few potatoes of his own and a knife then continues, “It lasts for ten years, just as the stone said. After his ten years of bliss, his kingdom falls, the woman he loves leaves him, his people turn against him. He is left powerless, loveless, and friendless. He has nothing to do but turn to the only person who knew him before he became what he was.”

“His brother.” Remus supplied, peeling slowly, more intent on listening.

Mrs. Potter nodded slightly in his direction, the pile beside her growing as she spoke, words rich and purposeful, “Exactly. Now, his brother had refused to take the instructions. He claimed that he was happy right then, with the life he was living. He didn’t know what would happen after ten years, so why risk it? He had a modest home, a good wife, had enough money to put basic food on his table. Why take the risk?”

“Well, he’d be happy for a time, at least. Truly happy.” Remus twirled his knife thoughtfully against the wooden counter, the point creating a small indent in the wood, “Why would he settle for something that he was just… _content_ with when he could have something fantastic like his brother did, for even a little while…”

Remus trailed off, suddenly realizing what he was saying. Mrs. Potter was looking somewhat knowingly at him, almost too knowingly for Remus’ comfort.

“Well, I do believe you’ve just answered your own question, love.”

Remus felt his cheeks flush and he smiled, flicking a potato skin in her direction and making her laugh, eyes crinkling. They worked in silence after that, the soft scraping being the only sound that filled the room.

Remus supposed he had answered his own question. He had something good right now. Something better than anything he’d ever had in his life. He had some _one_. Or at least he was beginning too. Would he really be able to give that up, to give Sirius up, out of, what, fear? Fear of the future? It was there. It was definitely a real fear. There was no hope for them. They had kissed, Sirius had smiled, Sirius had apologized, Sirius had taken it back, Sirius had left. That in itself said it, right there: They both knew, if this began, how it would end. Remus closed his eyes briefly. If it hadn’t been for the remembered feeling of Sirius’ hands on his skin, Sirius’ lips on his own, he would have been decided right there. End it. Sooner rather than later. But logic was consumed by emotion, planning consumed by memories.

Remus’ voice sounded louder when he spoke again, hands slowing, “He’d have the memories, at least.” Remus swallowed, “When it was all over, I mean.” He felt Mrs. Potter’s eyes on him and looked up too, “That’s worth something, isn’t it? He’d remember the happiness. That’s worth the risk?”

She thought for a moment, her own hands slowing as well, knife gliding smoothly, “Memories are tricky, I think. Remembering them is okay, good even. They can take us back to that time, that place. We can feel what we felt again, or almost what we felt. But living in them… it gets dangerous. I suppose it depends on the person, and how valuable they think the memories will be to them. If they would value the memories over their own present happiness.” She looked at him again, eyes slightly more serious but not alarmingly so, “That past can be a tempting thing, Remus.”

And Remus probably knew then. He could feel a ghost of what unbearable weight could eventually settle on his heart if he let this happen, if he let this happen until it…couldn’t anymore. Until it stopped. And it would stop. But he isn’t in the past yet. He’s in the present. And aren’t people always saying to ‘live in the now’?

What a dangerous expression that is, and perhaps the most tempting thing of all.

~

The already hot air rose about ten degrees when Sirius swung open the door to the kitchens. He probably should have noticed the pies cooling by the window first, or the sharp smell of spices and butter in the air, or the obscenely large pile of white potatoes on the island. But he zeroed in on Remus almost instantaneously, and for a moment all he could feel was him, was last night. His frostbitten skin that turned to warm cheeks and soft kisses and tangled hair-

“Oh my. Your Royal Highness.”

Sirius blinked away from the wide amber eyes and to Mrs. Potter standing next to him. And yes, he definitely should have noticed that.

He tried to shake off his surprise and gave his best yes-I-am-your-charming-prince smile, only to wince a little at remembering how that smile made Remus frown. His expression most likely turned out rather odd.

“I- hello.”

Mrs. Potter smiled kindly at him and bowed her head respectfully. Sirius glanced at Remus, whose eyes were still fixed on him, hoping desperately he wouldn’t do the same, but knowing he had too. It felt odd, wrong, to see Remus acting like a subject in front of him. Sirius straightened uncomfortably as Remus bowed too, a male’s bow, lower and one had behind his back. Sirius wanted to grip his shoulders and stop him, maybe with a kiss if he was lucky-

“My prince, what might we help you with this evening?” When Sirius just stood there after a moment, Mrs. Potter glanced at Remus, confused, “Or… Or have you come on behalf of the Queen, perhaps?”

“No.” Sirius said quickly, snapping back into himself, what he was brought up to be, “No, nothing of the sort. I’m hear on purely…” he glanced at Remus once more, “physical business.” He had to fight off the smirk at Remus’ flushed cheeks, and looked back to Mrs. Potter, “I require you to fetch Nurse Pomfrey, if you would. Quickly please. I fear my cheek is rather infected.”

Mrs. Potter squinted slightly, obviously worrying over the gash on Sirius’ upper cheek, before nodding, bowing again, and rushing out of the room.

Sirius wasted no time.

It had it perks, being tall, and he closed the distance between him and Remus in just four strides, pressing his hands to Remus’ cheeks at the same time as Remus’ went to his hair. And if Sirius had thought the last kiss had been good, he felt nearly knocked off balance by this one. Remus fingers wound tightly into his hair, pulling and knocking the crown slightly askew as he kissed him, breath hot and needing, filling Sirius to the brim with relief and _he doesn’t regret this, he wants this as much as you do._

“Jesus, the one time you choose not to be alone.” Sirius sighs into his mouth, thumbs stroking over Remus’ cheeks, imagining he can feel each freckle there and keep them.

“The one time you choose to wear _this_ bloody thing.”

Sirius laughs. He noses gently along Remus’ cheek, relishing in how fucking natural it feels, like he’d been doing it for months and years and eternity.

Remus laughs too, “Honestly, the first time I get to kiss you without being nervous and you restrict me with this.”

“Excuse you, you had James’ _mum_ next to you. Who’s restricting whom?”

Remus smiles, leaning into the place where Sirius presses a kiss to his cheek, and straightens the crown atop Sirius’ head before letting his hands fall to his neck, “Hm. I suppose you’re right.”

Sirius just lets their foreheads rests together, already dreading having to pull away, “Did you just say you were nervous to kiss me?”

He practically feels Remus roll his eyes, “We were _both_ nervous.”

“I wasn’t nervous.”

Sirius feels a little pinch on his shoulder, “Yes, you were.”

He smiles, “Yeah, I was.”

Remus laughs again then lets out a long breath, nudging their faces closer together. They’re silent for a few moments, just enjoying the other being there.

Sirius feels reluctant to break the quiet. It feels like they’re in their own little bubble, protected from whatever this world would throw at them. But he has to ask before Mrs. Potter comes back with Pomfrey.

“Will you meet me? Tonight.”

“Tonight?” Remus questions, “Tonight’s the ball.”

“Tonight.” Sirius slides his hands from Remus’ cheeks, to his waist, feeling the well worn linen beneath his fingertips, “West parlor. Where we met.”

Remus smiled at the memory, “What a pompous little prick you were.”

Sirius laughed, hands tightening around Remus’ shirt and pulling their chests together. He didn’t miss the small gasp Remus let out, “I’m still a pompous little prick. Just not around you.” He tilted his head to the side, lips hovering over Remus’, “And I’m not so sure about _little_.”

Remus hummed, seeming more intent on closing the distance between their mouths than actually answering.

The sound of footsteps made them both jump terribly, but Sirius pulled Remus back against him, just for a moment, savoring, needing, “Say you’ll come.” He whispered.

Remus pressed his palms once against Sirius’ cheeks, lips quick to steal one more kiss, “Of course I’ll come.”

They stepped apart, Sirius moving to the other side of the table. Mrs. Potter entered, alone.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at her, “And Pomfrey?”

Mrs. Potter looked absolutely bewildered to see him still standing in the kitchen. She glanced at Remus who had turned away, pretending to tend to the fire. Sirius longed to glance too, maybe get a quick view of-

“You- Your Highness, I didn’t expect you to be here. I would have thought you would return to your chambers, I’ve sent Pomfrey there. My greatest apologies-“

Sirius rolled his eyes a little and then, with the way her face fell and mouth snapped shut, he wished he hadn’t. He was suddenly desperately glad Remus wasn’t looking.

The truth was that Remus was correct. He was a pompous prick. It seemed to go along with his inheritance. But he didn’t want to be. He had to let Remus know he was trying, he was changing.

“No matter.” He supplied, “I will seek her there.” He almost turned, then stopped himself. He had to _try_ , “The- The food smells wonderful, by the way.” He hesitated, shifting uncomfortably, then dipped his head, just slightly, “Thank you, Mrs. Potter.”

He turned on his heel and left, leaving a wide eyed Mrs. Potter in his wake.

Mrs. Potter turned to Remus, who was still desperately stoking the fire.

“Well. That- That was rather kind of him, wasn’t it?”

Remus kept himself turned away, hiding the grin that felt like it was nearly splitting his cheeks in two.

“It was. Maybe he’s having a good day.”


	6. part vi

Remus hardly ate the servant’s dinner, even food felt irrelevant against what he had to look forward to in just a few hours. He tore his bread into smaller and smaller pieces, dipping it into his soup until it was little more than falling apart pulp sinking to the bottom of his bowl, untouched.

James fell into the chair next to him quite suddenly, making Remus jump.

“Sorry, sorry,” James shot him a sheepish smile. He practically inhaled half his soup before speaking again, “Just tired, didn’t mean to startle you.”

Remus shrugged, settling back into his chair and dropping a crust into his soup. The bread was soaking up more of it than he was by half, “’s’okay. Sirius had you up to something, did he? Or your mum?”

James shoved some bread in his mouth, “‘irius.” He swallowed thickly and took another spoonful of soup, calmer this time, “Y’know the ball? First blooms, true love, all that? How your suppose to give a girl flowers?”

Remus’ appetite vanished completely at the mention of Sirius and ‘giving a girl flowers’ in the same conversation, “Oh.” He actually did take some soup, just for something to do, and nodded, “Yeah.”

James let out a breath, shaking his head slightly, “Well, he’s got someone in mind. Jesus, I don’t know how I could’ve _missed_ it. I mean, whoever she is, judging by the fucking effort he- well, I went through, she must be important to him. Whoever she is. He wouldn’t bloody let on.” James added the last part in a bitter mumble.

Remus only nodded some more, heart slowly sinking in his chest, “He- He’s got plans then? For this girl, I mean.”

James laughed, “I’d hope so. I wouldn’t like to have gone around picking a million flowers to bring all the way to the fucking West parlor for nothing, now would I?”

Remus’ heart stuttered, froze, then seemed to leap back into its rightful place to pound against his ribs.

_Oh._

Remus nearly knocked his bowl over, then gripped the edges, trying to steady himself.

Flowers. The West parlor.

_That’s for you. It’s for you._

“No.” Remus took a larger spoonful, and some bread, hoping to mask a smile, “No, you wouldn’t.”

~

Remus felt like he was walking almost carefully over the preciously polished stones of the Black Castle. He looked down, watching his feet, then behind him, as if his shoes were tracking a visible trail of dust for someone to discover. But the halls were deserted. He was accompanied only by the distant sounds of the dance going on. Remus stopped a few window panes away from the parlor door, letting out a breath and gripping the stone sill. He could smell the thick scent of beeswax even from out here, and figured Sirius must have at least a dozen candles burning to make the scent so strong. The thought made his cheeks heat. Flowers, James had said. And now candles. Remus let out a breath, smiling to himself. He hoped Sirius knew he was a romantic. If not, Remus would be sure to let him know.

He pressed his wrists to the window, trying to cool his body, heated with nerves, and, still, hesitated. Sirius was waiting just inside. He should go in. He _wanted_ to go in. He didn’t want—he didn’t choose—to give his mind so much time to feel guilty, or nervous, or whatever this emotion was. He didn’t want Mrs. Potter’s words ringing around in his head.

_The past can be a tempting thing._

Would this be one of those dangerous memories she had warned against? Would he one day be so desperate for this moment that it would ruin him?

Remus thought he knew the answer.

He wasn’t sure he cared.

He knocked on the door softly, not sure why, and Sirius’ voice came from within almost instantly, sounding warm and excited even through the dark wood. When he pushed the door open, he might as well have stepped into a different world. He had been right, and James definitely hadn’t been exaggerating. Dozens of flowers, most of them wild ones that he recognized from around the grounds, littered the room, their petals randomly scattered around the floor. Candles dotted the empty spaces between, turning the closest buds to gold, and bathing the room in a warm light. And Sirius.

Sirius.

With his impeccable, ingrained posture not at all matching the nervous way he was biting his lip, Sirius stood in the middle of it all, clad in a deep plum overcoat, the material looking light and airy for a summer’s night, the leather shoulders making him look even broader. The lace up white linen shirt only just peaked out from beneath the leather ties of the front. He looked just as golden as the light, hair messy and falling into his eyes.

_Royal._

Remus breathed out shakily closing the door without looking away and leaned against it. He definitely knew his answer now. What a memory this would make.

“You look dressed for a ball.”

Sirius grinned, hands in the pockets of his dark trousers, “What ball?”

Remus narrowed his eyes, pressing back a smile, “ _Your_ ball. Isn’t there some girl you should be entertaining?”

At this Sirius raised an eyebrow, withdrawing his hands and striding forward until he could press his palms flat against the wood of the door on either side of Remus’ head, “What ball?” He said again, then, pitching his voice lower, “I’m here with you.”

Remus smiled back at this. He wanted to reach out and touch Sirius, only he didn’t look quite real right then, standing there wreathed in flowers, haloed in light.

_This boy is unattainable._

Remus swallowed, “That’s a lot of flowers.”

Sirius glanced back, eyes flickering around the room for a moment before they fell back down to Remus’, “Well. You’re an important person.”

“Am I?”

Remus felt the way Sirius’ chest rose and fell with his breath, “Hm,” he agreed, “You are.”

_This is all for you._

“James, he-“

“Doesn’t know.” Sirius said quickly, then tilted his head, “How did you…”

Remus raised an eyebrow, “You forget we practically live together.”

Sirius drew a breath, nodding in understanding, but his head was still tilted, he still looked uncomfortable.

Remus reached out slowly, eyes flickering downward to follow his hand for only a second as his fingers brushed along the hem of Sirius’ shirt, holding it softly between his thumb and forefinger, “What is it?”

Sirius’ eyes, which had strayed and unfocused, flicked back to Remus’, “What?”

“You have that face on. The one when something’s bothering you.”

Sirius’ eyes softened considerably, mouth opening slightly, “I… I have a face?”

Remus nodded a little, small smile creeping over his lips, “Yes. Your eyes go all dreamy and that little crease appears just..” Remus reached upwards with his thumb, attempting to smooth away the line between Sirius’ eyebrows, “there.”

Sirius’ brows only furrowed deeper and he leaned in a little more, “You’re very observant.”

“I hope that’s a complement.” Remus laughed.

Sirius shook his head, smiling a little as well, “No, it is, it’s just… No one’s ever… noticed…” He trailed off again and again, and then shook his head some more, “It’s nothing, really, I’m just… I don’t usually lie to James.”

Remus was a little stuck on the previous part of the statement, the part that tore at his heart a bit, but he nodded. He supposed he was still coming to terms with just how close Sirius and James actually were. Before learning of them, he’d always known servant-to-household relationships to be civil at best, but in most cases not all together pleasant.

Then again, it might be hypocritical to speak like that now, given the current position he was in. He felt the heat of Sirius’ body around him and smiled. Literally the position he was in.

“What?” Sirius laughed.

“Nothing. Maybe you won’t have to lie to him forever.”

Sirius nodded.

Remus nodded.

They both didn’t believe it.

Sirius snapped out of it first, “Never mind that now. This isn’t about James, or me. This,” Sirius took a step back, hands sliding down to catch Remus’ in the same motion and pulling him with him, “is all for you.”

Remus’ heart caught. He had already known, but to hear Sirius say it…

Then suddenly he was against Sirius’ chest again, foreheads nearly together, strong arms wrapped securely around his waist, “You like it, don’t you?”

Remus smiled, relishing in the way Sirius’ nose bumped against his own, and nodded. God, now that he was here, encircled in these arms again, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to stop touching Sirius.

“I didn’t know what you’d like, is all.” Sirius rambled, “You don’t seem like a rose person. Really, any flower my mum had just didn’t… it wasn’t right. These are from the castle grounds, James he—well, I made him get them. I’d do it myself but, you know, prying eyes and all. Didn’t want the entire castle knowing I was thinking of someone for first bloom. I don’t even want to know all the questions that would come along with that-“

“Sirius.” Remus said softly.

“I know I’m talking, I just want to make sure you like it-“

“ _Sirius_.” Remus pressed his hand to Sirius’ cheek, carefully avoiding the still fresh cut there, trying to sooth the worry from his eyes. He pressed up, embarrassingly, on his toes to press a soft kiss to his mouth, “It’s wonderful, I like it… I like _you_.”

Sirius stood there for a moment, lips parted as if hoping for another kiss, and then smiled, “Yeah?”

And Remus let himself go a little, that soft smile he was receiving softening his resolve, and wound his arms around Sirius’ neck, “Yeah.”

Sirius wet his lips, tongue only just peaking out, and then his palms were spanning Remus’ back, flattening out and pressing him forward almost urgently. Remus felt heat prickle beneath his skin, “God…”

“I don’t…” Sirius let out a frustrated sound, “I don’t have all night. I have to make some appearance, I-“ Remus felt Sirius’ chest rising slightly faster against his own, “God, this is torture.”

Remus inhaled sharply, caught between Sirius’ words and the feeling of his mouth that was now mouthing lightly against his jaw just beneath his ear, “We- We have some time, don’t we? No one’s- fuck-” Remus was practically arched against Sirius’ chest now he was being held so tightly. He never wanted Sirius to pull away, “no one’s going to walk in here, are they?”

Sirius’ breath was hot on Remus’ lips when he pulled back, just enough to press their foreheads together once again. The air in the room seemed suspended for a brief moment, and all that was left was them.

“Not a soul.” Sirius breathed, and then he was locking their mouths together, knocking the air from Remus’ lungs.

How odd it was, standing in that room and thinking that, what was it, just a week ago? Two? A blimp of time in a life, a small collection of hours and minutes and seconds ago, Remus had not even known Sirius. He had stood up from the fireplace in this room and turned around to see a sleep deprived prince standing there, rude and entitled. Mere days passed, filled with not all together perfect exchanges, but also filled with giving and receiving secrets that had never been told. And now he was kissing that prince. Now he was kissing him and he never wanted to kiss or be kissed by anyone else. It was the stuff of stories. Such a short amount of time to acquire so many feelings. Trust, being one. Respect. Lust.

How much time did they have? How much more of himself would Remus be able to give to Sirius? How much would Sirius be able to give in return?

Now, with hands holding cheeks, gripping hair, being backed up until Remus’ knees hit the couch and they fell, messily together, Remus could feel the unspoken flow of all these things between them, waiting, and _there._

They were like an undercurrent of energy, powerful but not tangible. Remus suddenly needed to feel so much closer, to be more connected, as if holding on to something, anything, would make this last. His hands flew to Sirius clothing, the material rich, the leather ties sturdy but giving away easily to his fingertips. He pulled and unknotted, never breaking their kiss, until the garment fell open and he could reach down, tucking under the soft linen of Sirius’ shirt and pressing his hands to the heated skin beneath, feeling each muscle and rib. Sirius was gasping into his mouth, and fell from the support of his hands to his forearms, bringing them closer.

“Remus…” The word sounded broken, blurred by the lack of space Sirius was willing to put between them to say it properly, and pleading. It made Remus feel like he couldn’t breathe.

It was all so new. It was what he’d stopped himself from for so long, told himself again and again, _not allowed not allowed not allowed_. And suddenly it was. Suddenly he had a boy’s body against his own, kissing him back with just as much need as he had, saying his name at the feeling of his touch.

Sirius suddenly drew himself up a little, shifting until his thigh was settled comfortably between Remus’. And then he was pressing down with a firm, relentless pressure that had stars sparking at the edges of Remus’ vision. He broke the kiss for only the pure need of air, eyes squeezing shut and head falling back as Sirius rocked against him gently, the rough fabric of their pants the only thing barring the heated friction. With his neck newly exposed, Sirius attacked, sucking at the thin skin, pressing kiss after kiss. Remus felt his hand clutch his hip, thumb rubbing softly underneath his shirt.

“Christ… Jesus fucking…” Sirius panted against his throat, hips bucking forward, and his hand suddenly at the small of Remus’ back, pressing him upwards as Remus clutched him tighter, one leg hooking around Sirius’ of its own accord.

“Sirius-“ He was gasping, nearly rendered speechless at the sheer speed at which blood was flowing straight to his groin. He felt him press a few kisses to his collar bone, relishing in the way Sirius was nudging the fabric of his shirt away. He felt the lace up at the front loosen considerably and fall away, and swore he felt the scrape of _teeth._

“Fuck-“ Remus groaned, “Fuck, did you just…”

“Hands are a little busy,” Sirius let out a breathless laugh, then promptly _nuzzled_ Remus’ chest, pressing wet open-mouthed kisses there, “God. God, you’re gorgeous…”

“Sirius…” Remus practically moaned it, hands moving to press at Sirius’ lower back, bringing their hips tighter together. Then he really did moan, bucking his hips up to match Sirius’ thrusts downward, “Oh god, I need…”

“Tell me.” Sirius said lowly, “Tell me, Remus. Anything. You can have anything-“

A knock on the door sounded loudly in the room.

Remus had never stilled faster in his light, blood running cold, heart picking up for an entirely different reason. Sirius, on the other hand groaned in desperation, letting almost his entire weight pleasantly fall on Remus and buried his face in the crook of Remus’ neck, mumbling what sounded like _no_ a few times.

“Sirius.” Remus’ swallowed down the panic in his voice, “Who… Who is-“

“It’s James.” Sirius said, voice muffled by Remus’ skin, the warmth of it making Remus shiver, “It’s just James, he won’t come in. I told him to knock when my mum finally noticed… God, _fuck_. I fucking _hate_ …” He didn’t finish, just let out a long breath and pressed another long kiss to Remus’ heated skin, “I’m sorry.”

Another, slightly louder, knock sounded.

“Yes, I’m coming!” Sirius growled.

Sirius lifted his head to look at Remus, and Remus nearly forgot anyone was at the door at all, much less cared. Because Sirius’ cheeks were flushed a deep pink, looking lovely and dark against his tanned skin. His lips were swollen from kissing, hair messy from Remus’ fingers. With his blown pupils and clothes hanging half off of him, Remus felt his pants tighten further if it was possible, cock giving a slightly desperate twitch. He felt Sirius’ hips respond with a soft press.

Remus groaned softly, withdrawing his hands from Sirius’ shirt and pressing them to his cheeks instead, bringing their mouths together again, kissing him hard and taking his time about it.

“Stay.” He said in between, “God, stay.”

Sirius’ brow creased and he kissed Remus harder, as if trying to imprint the feeling onto his skin.

They both knew he couldn’t. After a few more seconds, Remus released him and helped him tie up his shirt properly while Sirius stood there looking miserable, and pressing kisses to various parts of Remus’ forehead and temples.

When they were both properly dressed and after many painful trouser adjustments, Sirius pulled Remus back to him, “You won’t leave my mind for a moment tonight.” He said softly, fingers splayed on Remus’ cheek, reaching into the feathery hair by his ear. His smile grew slightly more mischievous, but his eyes were honest, “You… You do know what giving someone flowers means tonight, don’t you?”

Remus just kissed him, too overwhelmed for words. 

_I know._

Sirius backed him up, kissing him in short, desperate bursts until they were in front of the door. He pulled back, positioning Remus where he was safely hidden behind it, and with a last touch, a last look, he opened it and was gone. Remus heard a short snippet of James apologizing and Sirius sighing, and then the door closed.

Remus blew out the candles slowly, one by one, then opened the window to let the smoke waft out and the warm night breeze in. It was only under the safe cover of darkness and the moon that he put a chair in front of the door, laid back on the couch, and pressed a hand around himself, already living desperately for the memory that was not even ten minutes over.


	7. part vii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S M U T A L E R T. Sorry this took so long guys! I was graduating and decided to take some time to be with my family and friends before we split up for the summer. Hope you guys enjoy!!

Sirius shifted his shoulder slightly to the left, allowing pork to be tonged onto his plate and trying desperately to focus on what his mother was saying.

“You’re checking in with your studies, I presume? Regulus’ professor has informed me he checks in nearly every other day.” If his mother could have a ‘fond’ look, she flashed it at Regulus then.

Sirius stabbed at his plate, nodding for a moment and looking up to Regulus, “Because he has nothing better to do.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes, “And you do?”

Sirius felt a blissful burn ignite in his chest, images of Remus’ nose scrunching, head thrown back as he pressed their bodies together filling his head. Images of him smiling, flour on his cheek and hair slightly curlier from the heat of the oven.

He smirked. _Things_ wasn’t the right word, but he was definitely otherwise occupied.

His mother took a disapproving sip of wine, “Quiet. Regulus,” Sirius almost rolled his eyes. _Regulus Regulus Regulus_ , “have you told your brother of your acquirement?”

Sirius stopped chewing for a moment, eyes flicking to Regulus, watching his face. His brother’s eyes remained fixed on his plate, pushing what little food he had there around. Sirius’ jaw resumed slowly, trying to relax the small knot forming in his stomach, “Acquirement?”

His mother’s smile was dripping with pride, her tongue flicking against her teeth with the need to tell every soul she could about this news, “Oh, yes. Our cousins, the Lestranges. A powerful family, not like us, of course, but they have their uses. They’ve formed a “society,” as they’re calling it. Stupid name.” The queen had pork in her teeth as she rolled her eyes, letting out a laugh, “Regulus, won’t you tell your brother?”

Sirius’ eyes moved to Regulus, wide. He knew what society meant. He knew what doing anything involving the Lestranges meant. His cousins wanted nothing but power for what they considered “pure” bloodlines. Pure nobility, pure beauty. Purity away from poverty, from lower class people they deemed peasants. They were ruthless and cruel and Sirius despised them. He didn’t wonder, then, why that had gone to Regulus instead of him, the future monarch. He didn’t make his hatred secret. Sirius waited for Regulus’ eyes to find his, but they didn’t.

“It’s a political movement.” Regulus said to his lap, “A revolution, if you will. It will keep us in power.” Only then did his eyes raise, “I am to be the representative of the Black household.”

They looked at each other for silently and, for a moment, Sirius thought he saw a younger version of the boy in front of him now, less silent, less… _this_. For a moment Regulus looked like he had before, when he hated Sirius’ outbreaks, hated when he argued against mother. Hated what he brought down on himself, after.

_Don’t, Sirius. Please, don’t._

Then it was gone, and Regulus looked away.

Sirius put his fork down, “A revolution, huh? Is that their kind word for increasing taxes? For starving the villagers?”

“Hold your tongue.” His mother snapped at him.

Sirius grit his teeth, “They’re full of greed and nothing else. Greed for _themselves_ -“

“And they have placed your brother at a _top_ position.” His mother’s lip was curling, her fingertips clawing into the table. Sirius knew what it meant. He knew what he was in for. He couldn’t stop.

“They do know he’ll never be king. They’ll have nothing when I-“

“That,” The queen snarled, “Will be a very long time from now. Unless you are _implying_ otherwise.”

Sirius felt his cheeks flush, anger burning his chest. Of course she would jump to that conclusion, of course she would want to make him seem just like them, twisted, scheming, power-hungry, “I imply nothing.”

And that was it. The last word, as usual, was hers.

Sirius sat quietly at desert, heart aching at the slice of chocolate cake in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to be down in the kitchens with Remus, alone and surrounded by the heat of him, his warmth and the comfort he offered. He couldn’t help but glance at Regulus who sat straight, answering whatever questions his mother asked him in the exact way she wanted him too. Sirius couldn’t do that, he’d never been able to do that. Even when they were young, Sirius had never stayed in his seat, he’d never held his tongue, not like Regulus. Regulus who was slowly being corrupted, fixed under the control of the family, the cruelty. And nothing Sirius could do would stop it, stop him. He’d been completely shut out by his baby brother. Just like by everyone else. Always the outcast.

He couldn’t remember when he’d started getting beaten for it, but he supposed that was why. He wasn’t the perfect son. He wasn’t the perfect king. He just… _wasn’t._

He barely touched the cake, and he was glad for this, for after the table had been cleared and he’d been instructed to follow his mother into her study, he emptied the contents of his stomach out in the privacy of his bathroom, the action stinging his newly sliced cheek, and making the quickly forming bruise over his left ribs ache painfully.

He fell asleep on the cool, stone floor, bloodied and aching for the one person who couldn’t come.

~

James looked distressed when he came back to the kitchens, bearing Sirius’ breakfast tray, still ladened with most of the food. Remus looked at it, then looked at James.

James put up a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “Too much wine, I think. Life of the royals, yeah?”

Remus pulled the tray towards him slowly, nodding. The napkin was still folded and he made a show of picking up the silverware so James wouldn’t notice him slipping the small piece of parchment from between the folds, “Right.” He offered a smile of his own, one that didn’t reach his eyes, “Happen often?”

James’ smile wilted a bit, and he picked up an apple, leaning his back against the table. Remus could only see half of his face, “I’d say so.”

Remus picked up on… something. Something in his voice that he didn’t like. But James didn’t stay long enough for further questioning, instead picking up a rather large basket of shoes and polish. Remus could at least be glad he didn’t have to do that. He looked down at the piece of paper in his palm.

_Care to finish what we started?_

_Lake. Nightfall._

He sighed. It had taken half his courage to write it, the other half to send it upstairs. He felt foolish now, seeing it unread in his open palm. The other night was still with him, as vividly as it had happened hours ago. He’d catch himself thinking of it mid-work, cheeks hot, breathing heavy. It had been incredible, and it was driving him mad. It was _unfinished_. It was a madness he could deal with, as long as there was the promise of more, of time. Time together. But the time apart… Remus tore the note up slowly, lip between his teeth.

He was monumentally unprepared for the constant need that scraped at his chest.

“Fuck.” He breathed, pushing off the table. Sirius hadn’t gotten the note. He had no other way of contacting or communicating with him in any way unless Sirius initiated it by venturing downstairs. Then again he’d need some excuse—a good excuse—for him being there in the first place. Remus felt suspended on the end of a tether, the binds verging on too tight. Just _seeing_ each other was a battle and he was definitely the one on the losing side. He’d have to wait it out, sit on his hands, hope for Sirius to come to him sooner rather than later.

Remus tossed the scraps and walked to the work Mrs. Potter had left him while she went to the usual Saturday morning markets, restocking on what was in season. He was to start the egg sandwiches for the Queen’s luncheon. Remus contemplated skipping the task. Let the Queen go without her tea sandwiches. See what her nobles thought of her then. Royalty was petty like that, weren’t they? Now that he knew just how much Sirius hated the queen, Remus’ own hatred only seemed to burn hotter. But he sighed, and cracked the first egg into the bowl. It wouldn’t be his head on the chopping block.

He was just turning to fetch the buttermilk when two hands caught his hips, pulling him away from the counter and firmly against a chest.

Remus didn’t even pretend to be startled this time, and just let out a much too loud laugh, feeling a similar one muffled against the skin of his throat. His chest felt like it would collapse with the sudden release of pressure, with the relief.

_He’s here._

He placed one hand on the hand covering his opposite hip, the other still whisking the egg, “Well, hi.”

He felt a chin press to his shoulder and the hands on his hips moved to wrap tightly around his waist, as Sirius pressed their bodies closer, “Hi.”

Remus’ whisk slowed as he looked at the murky eggs, remembering, “You okay?” He tried to keep his voice light.

“Hm.” Sirius’ answer was quiet, a liar’s uncommitted sound.

“Yeah?” Remus didn’t want to push, but he couldn’t not ask either.

Sirius pressed his lips to Remus’ jaw, right at the place where it curved to meet his ear, “Better now.”

Remus nodded a little, unable to help tilting his head into the kiss, “Do you want some of this?” When Sirius didn’t answer he pushed on, “’s just you didn’t really eat your breakfast, I thought something might be wrong.”

It was light, but Remus didn’t miss the curse Sirius breathed, “Oh. Right, forgot you’d… y’know, see that. Notice.”

Remus put the fork down, twisting in Sirius’ arms, “Of course I’d notice, you didn’t get my-“

The kitchen was silent for a long moment. Remus didn’t make a move to touch and neither of them pulled away, but there was more air between them now. Misunderstanding, concern, worry. Sirius was just looking at him, eyes silently begging him not to. Not to say anything, not to notice, not to ask him. And Remus almost _couldn’t._ This was Sirius. This was a boy who had managed to change his life in a matter of weeks, who didn’t deserve…this. Whatever it was, whatever was happening. And then Sirius dropped his gaze, mouth turned down in a way that still said _please don’t._

And Remus didn’t.

He pushed a careful hand through Sirius hair, pushing it back from the slightly swelling edge of his right eye and said, “Someday?”

Sirius looked up again and relief was there in his expression. He nodded, “Someday.”

Remus kept his hand there, just stroking gently, and Sirius closed his eyes, leaning into it. He would have stayed there forever.

Still with his eyes closed, Sirius finally spoke, “I believe I was promised a tutorial in this particular task.”

Remus grinned, “That you were.”

Sirius glanced quickly around the kitchen, “Are you expecting anyone?”

Remus was suddenly feeling very grateful for the market, “Not a soul.”

They spent the next half hour between soft quiet and laughter, Remus’ hands almost always over Sirius’ larger ones, teaching, and just wanting to touch. They were cutting the bread when Sirius finally said what Remus wanted to hear.

“What are you doing tonight?”

Remus reached up, plucking a few chives from the herbs hanging from the ceiling, “Positively nothing.”

“Not anymore.” Sirius looked up from the sandwich he was somewhat gingerly holding, meeting Remus’ eyes, “Do… Do you think you could find an excuse to come upstairs again?”

Remus tore the chives in his fingers, letting them fall atop the egg, “Yeah. Apparently your mum is dining out tonight so there won't be much to do. The parlor again?”

Sirius looked back down to where he was carefully spreading butter on a toast, “Actually,” Remus looked up again at the hesitance in his tone. Sirius stayed as focused as one could be on toast, eyes down, “I was thinking you could come a bit more… well, up.” He took a large, nervous breath, “My chambers,” his eyes flicked up to Remus, “for instance.”

Remus held his breath. This was new, “Your room.”

Sirius nodded, “Right.” He kept his eyes on his knife, “It’s private, no one would come in. I can show you a secret passage to get there.”

Remus’ mouth quirked up, “Secret passage way?”

Sirius grinned, looking at him this time, “ _Yes_ , I know. Castle’s full of them.” Then more tentatively, eyes down again, “Will you come?”

Remus felt flushed all the way from his toes, hot all over. His skin prickled, cheeks warmed at the thought of being in Sirius’ room, Sirius’ _space_. The unidentified space that he’d been sending breakfast up to for months. His chest ached with the sudden want to see it, to see it with Sirius.

“Remus?” Remus looked up fro where he’d been staring at nothing, and felt his face grow hotter. He could feel the slight smile on his face. He saw Sirius’ eyes flick to it and then smile too, “Will you?”

Remus nodded, “‘Course. Of course, I will.”

~

Regulus’ back ached, but he didn’t dare relax.

He heard Bellatrix’s nails on the table, long scratches, before he saw her or her mother.

“Regulus. So glad you could join us.” Only then did they come into view. The same sleek black hair with dark eyes to match. Bellatrix smiled at him, all teeth, no actual smile, while her mother smiled, no teeth, no actual smile, “My sister has raised you well since we last met.”

Regulus stood and bowed to each of them, kissing his aunt’s hand. He did not smile, “It’s been too long.”

The tall stained glass windows of the Lestrange Manor let in very little light. What did make it through the dark green stains was watery and thin, casting shifting shadows on the wall. It made Regulus feel uneasy. He was never sure what was moving, and what wasn’t. There could be someone behind him, or just a trick of the light. Was his aunt’s eyes on him, or to his right, forward. The light left him in the dark. He wanted to go home.

He heard others filter in behind him, other household representatives, other members of the noble bloodlines, and he sat without a word. Bellatrix fell into the seat beside him, nashing her teeth and gripping his hand, then pouting and turning away when he didn’t flinch.

His aunt took the head of the table, remaining standing. Tarea Lestrange was a slight woman, but with eyes that radiated power. She wore black robes that made her look impossibly taller, leaner.

“Welcome.”

Regulus listened intently with lowered eyes.

Power.

Wealth.

Control.

All for themselves. It was all he heard. He felt the energy change in the room as his aunt rallied the houses, his eyes flickered around them room at the approving nods. Contracts were handed out, outlining plans of action, plans for the surrounding villages. Sirius had been correct. Taxes were to be raised, and laughter had not been scarce when Bellatrix mimicked a common-folk, begging for food and drink.

“And what of enforcement?” A man’s voice rang out clearly, rather high. His robes were heavy with the chains around his neck, thick and silver. He had a smile on his face, thin and curling, that told Regulus he already knew the answer to his question.

Regulus thought he knew as well.

Tarea smiled, no teeth, no smile, and, yes, Sirius had been correct,

“Blood.”

Regulus cleared his throat softly before speaking, “Death? For taxes?”

Tarea’s smile didn’t waver, “Correct, nephew.”

Regulus’ hands tightened into fists, nervous. He shoved them under the table, “My house- The Queen will not stand for that. I don’t believe.”

His aunt’s eyes tightened, and she pressed the tips of her thin fingers to the dark wood of the table, leaning her long body forward, “Is that so?”

Regulus sat up straighter, “There are other ways to take care of it, are there not?”

Her pupils were pin points, “Yes.”

“Then no. No, the Queen would never be agreed.”

Tarea’s lips parted, ever so slightly. The smile looked like a possessive grimace, “The Queen wouldn’t? Are you sure? Or… are you talk about your future king?”

Regulus stiffened but willed himself not to look away. He felt the air change again at the mention of his brother. Sirius was notorious for speaking out against the traditional ways of the families. He was a threat, and the fear he brought turned sour and into hatred almost instantly.

“Because,” his aunt continued, “I believe there are other ways of taking care of _that_ , as well.”

The air in Regulus’ lungs seem to still. Beside him Bellatrix let out a gasp, then a laugh. He saw others sit up strighter. They were listening now.

This was new. This was his brother. Regulus swallowed thickly, heart sinking with realization.

This was the reason he had been picked for this position.

“I’m not sure I follow.” His thanked God his voice did not shake.

Tarea’s fingers dragged against the backs of chairs as she made his way to his, coming to stand behind him. Her fingers were tight on his shoulders,

“Regulus. Wouldn’t _you_ like to be king?”

~

Regulus speaks to no one as he arrives home. He sends his guards away, he leaves his dinner to fall cold. He pushes into his room, falls to his knees, and tells himself he’s doing the right thing. His words echo off his skull.

_Yes. Yes, I would._

And he starts to formulate a plan.

~

Sirius stared at the tea cart in front of him, ladened with summer fruits, cheese and bread, wine, chocolate. Anything he could think of, he had gotten sent up. When the maid finished setting up, he had opened the door for her to leave, and ordered his guards to follow. They had smirked, glancing at one another. No doubt, images of an affair filled their minds. Sirius closed the door and grinned. They had no idea.

He’d been pacing for the last half hour, eyes never leaving the bookshelf for a moment, waiting for it to open and allow the person who he was almost positive he’d never be able to stop thinking about again to enter. At least it felt that way.

He wasn’t sure what had made him invite Remus up here. It had been a spur of the moment decision, quite possibly the result of certain unfinished business and the uncontrollable need to finish it. For completion, however, privacy was a necessity. He glanced at the bed, then at the food. It wasn’t a purely sexual motive. Since he met Remus, he had to admit that he’d developed quite a need to _give_ Remus things. Slippers, notes, flowers, chocolate. He wanted to watch his face light up over and over, to watch that shy smile whenever he thought he might be getting over excited. He could watch Remus just be happy until the end of time and be content all the while.

He heard a muffled clump from inside the wall and halted, spinning towards the case. He watched as it creaked open slowly, and a very hesitant head poked through. The second Remus caught sight of Sirius, however, all hesitation was replaced by a grin and Remus slipped from the hidden doorway and right into Sirius’ arms, pulling him into a slightly miscalculated kiss, more laughter than lips.

“That was terrifying.” Remus breathed, lips moving against Sirius’ as he spoke, palms splayed on his cheeks, “Full of fucking spiderwebs.”

Sirius’ heart felt like it was tripping over its own beats. This room had never felt so warm before. He grinned back somewhat dazed, eyes trying to look at every bit of Remus’ face at once, “You don’t like spiders?”

Remus just shook his head, finally finding it in him to lean off his toes so they could speak at a normal distance, “Not in the slightest.”

“Well,” Sirius settled his hands comfortably on Remus’ waist, dipping his head downward to nudge their noses together briefly, “I’m glad you made it.”

Remus smiled at him, eyes hooded and soft, then let his eyes drift around the room for the first time, smile dropping and eyes widening a little.

“Jesus.” He let his arms fall, looping loosely around Sirius’ neck instead, “You really are a king.”

Sirius snorted, “Well spotted.”

Remus rolled his eyes but the smile was back, eyes still roaming over the room. Sirius let him slip out of his arms somewhat reluctantly, holding on until it was just their fingertips touching.

“Did you do this?” Remus asked, picking up a fig.

Sirius hummed in acknowledgement, leaning against a bed post and fiddling with the transparent curtain that was bunched at the corner, letting it fall over his palms. He watched Remus silently as he walked around the room in slow circles, taking a bite of the ripe fruit. He touched nearly everything. The walls, the cushions on the fainting couch by the door, the dark, smooth wood of Sirius’ wardrobe. He ran his fingertips over each and ever surface and Sirius found heat pooling in his stomach as he watched them, long and slender and gentle. His skin prickled with the need to feel them against himself.

Finally, Remus stopped, back where he started, taking the curtain out of Sirius’ hands and replacing it with his own. He laced their fingers together, using the leverage to pull them chest to chest, “It’s very nice in here.”

Sirius smiled, “I’m glad you think so.”

“You don’t?” Remus nudged their noses together.

“I think…” The truth was that Sirius had never particularly liked this room. Too many memories, too closed off. It felt impersonal, like it could belong to anyone, not just him. Then again, with how people viewed him, maybe that was the point. He raised one of their locked hands, pressing it to his mouth, “I think I like it more now that you’re in it.”

Remus smiled, then pressed up and kissed him. The pressure was soft for a few moments, just genteel presses of closed lips, before Remus let Sirius part his with his tongue, and press him against the flat edge of the bedpost. Sirius moaned into his mouth, releasing his hands only to have them press firmly to his back, trailing downwards to his arse, holding Remus against him. Remus panted softly as Sirius let his lips trail down to his throat. He tilted his head back, content and helpless against Sirius’ mouth sucking a bruise into his skin, wetting and biting and marking.

“God,” Remus tightened his hands in Sirius’ shirt, “Tell me you can stay. Tell me-”

He didn’t want to admit to himself how belittled the question made him feel. He was never the one who had to leave, probably never would be. He would always, however, be the one who had to be left. He didn’t think about how one day it would be for good. 

“I can.” Sirius’ voice is breathless, and he can’t seem to be able to get close enough to Remus, “I can, I can.”

_For now._

Remus let his eyes slip closed again and dragged his hands up to Sirius’ hair. He groaned when he felt cool metal touch his fingers, “Jesus, I hate this thing.”

Sirius just kissed him again, lips feeling wet and swollen from their previous work. Remus almost didn’t hear his words through the need ricocheting around his head,

“Take it off.” Sirius laughed gently against Remus’ mouth, “ _Throw it._ ”

Remus didn’t hesitate in curling his fingers around the gold and tossing it from Sirius head. He heard it fall, muffled by a thick rug. Out of sight, out of mind.

“There, it’s gone.” Sirius’ hands were back on his hips, smile blinding, backing them up until Remus fell down on the bed, Sirius crawling over top of him, “Just you and me, love.”

Remus sighed, sinking into the weight of Sirius’ hips on his, the extreme softness of the bed against his back, and tried not to let the sadness creep in with the happy. It’s good now, this is a good memory. He won’t be the one to ruin it.

“Just us.” He repeated, not intentionally out loud, softly.

Sirius shuffled until he was supported by his forearms, looking down at Remus. His fingers played with the hair that fanned out over his ears gently. His eyes were soft, and trying desperately not to look concerned, “You okay?”

Remus bit his lip for a moment, regarding Sirius carefully. His hair still held the indent from the heavy crown, the ends curling up and around where the metal use to rest. Remus reached up, running his fingers through it a few times, trying to get rid of it, make the curls wild like they’d been the day he had swam.

“I just don’t want you to leave.” To be honest, he hadn’t really meant to say that out loud either.

Remus watched Sirius’ eyes go wider, then his brows draw together: sad, pained. The bruise on his cheek puffed out more, and Remus was suddenly taken on by the urge to drag him down to the kitchen to make the pain go away. To make any pain go away, really. Sirius seemed to be having similar thoughts as he shifted his weight on one shoulder, pressing his palm to Remus’ face, fingers spanning from his cheek to jaw.

Remus cut him off before he could say anything because, truly, what was there to say? Any reassurance would be at least half a lie, “I just- I mean- What I mean is that I’m glad you can stay.”

_For now._

“I don’t think I could go another period like these last few days.” Remus leaned his head up, nipping gently at Sirius’ lower lip, letting his teeth drag softly at the skin, “You very much left me hanging…”

Sirius hesitated for a moment, but then allowed himself to smile. Maybe because he didn’t know what to do otherwise, maybe he wanted Remus as much as Remus wanted him. He met Remus’ mouth just as it pulled off of his, catching his lips in one motion, pressing Remus’ chin upwards to kiss him harder. He pulled his knees up, taking the weight off his shoulders so he could _touch touch touch_. Remus sank back into the mattress, just wanting to be kissed until his mind shut off, until he could be in this moment only. He didn’t want to worry, he didn’t want to count down the minutes. He wanted to _feel_. Just what was now.

He pulled at the ties of Sirius’ shirt until they were loose and sliding down one of Sirius’ tanned shoulders. He pressed up and under the fabric, feeling the heat of his skin, the pattern of his ribs, then let his hands slide lower, tugging at his pants. Sirius let out a hiss, pulling back just enough to tug his shirt over his head and to undo his pants. The sight was glorious. Sirius looked like… _summer_. Remus let all the breath out of his lungs, pulling himself into a sitting position just to be closer, to push his hands against Sirius’ skin, to kiss the collar bones that strained outward. He felt Sirius’ hand wind through the hair at the back of his head, holding him there gently.

“C’mere,” Remus sighed, pushing at Sirius’ chest until he rolled onto his back, letting out a delighted laugh and making Remus smile as he straddled him, “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. You’re gorgeous, come here…” He pressed his lips to the planes of Sirius’ chest, dragging them along the soft dips and valleys of it, memorizing, committing it to memory, trying to.

“‘m here.” Remus glanced up through his lashes at Sirius, seeing that his eyes were closed, brows drawn together in pleasure, “‘m right here…”

Remus squeezed his eyes shut too, nuzzling into Sirius’ neck.

_For now._

_Now now now._

Remus found the loose band of Sirius’ pants and pulled, pushing back on his heels, letting Sirius lift his hips to remove the fabric. He watched Sirius’ breathing increase, his chest rise and fall.

Remus let out a long breath, letting his forehead fall against Sirius’ hip, breathing in his musky scent, pressing slow kisses to the soft skin there before nuzzling closer to Sirius’ swollen member, “Sirius…”

“Yes.” Sirius breathed, “Yes, yes…” He opened his eyes, grey and blue and pupils blown, and looked down. He reached one arm out, reaching for Remus. Remus shifted his wait, meeting Sirius’ outstretched palm and laced their fingers.

Remus’ chest ached at the soft smile that crossed Sirius’ face as he let his head fall back onto the pillows, breath shaking. Remus wanted to see that smile again, but he wanted to see other things too. Maybe more. He wanted to see Sirius’ eyes squeeze shut, his lips part his fists clench. He wanted Sirius nails to dig into to his palm, as they did now but harder. Remus moved his attention to Sirius’ cock, heavy against his belly. He tentatively wrapped his unoccupied hand around it, heat jolting to his own groin at the soft moan Sirius breathed. He gave an experimental stroke, hooded eyes focusing on the pink tip that slipped in and out of sight. His cock tented tighter in his trousers at the sight, and he shifted against the mattress in a only half conscious effort to gain some friction. He let his hand build a steady, slow pace, feeling Sirius’ hand tighten in his own.

“Re… God..”

Remus’ eyes flashed up at the nickname, lip pulling between his teeth and he tightened his hand, swiping his thumb over the top and gathering the clear liquid there. Sirius groaned at the new slickness of the pull, hips bucking upwards. Remus caught them with his mouth, licking a long stripe up the underside of Sirius’ member. He wasn’t sure what had made him do it, he had only suddenly wanted to taste. He felt the vain against his tongue pulse, and realize with a jolt that it was Sirius’ heart beating in time with the aching cock. Remus closed his eyes, cock wetting just at the thought. He licked again, rutting against the bed in time with his strokes, letting out breathy moans that he could barely hear. Sirius’ smell, the weight of him in his hand, the noises he was making, it was too much. Remus desperately rolled his hips into the quilt, trying to ignore how rough the fabric of his pants was.

“Fuck- Re, wait- wait…”

Remus’ eyes flashed open instantly, mouth freezing but lips staying obscenely parted. He didn’t want to stop.  
It seemed to take much more effort than normal for Sirius to sit up, and he was breathing hard, his cheeks flushed. He reached both his arms out, and pulling Remus towards him, “S’okay, s’perfect,” He pressed a long kiss to Remus’ mouth, moaning, “God, you’re perfect, I just wanna- here.” Both boys seemed nearly too tired to move, limbs heavy with arousal, but with not too much difficulty, Sirius helped Remus out of his shirt and pants, kissing him again at the moan Remus let out when his cock bobbed free, “There we go,” Sirius whispered, “Now put your legs like this, straddle my- _ah_ , god, yeah- my thigh. Like that. Jesus,” Sirius leaned forward for another messy kiss, “You’re so hot against me. Feels so good.”

Remus was vaguely aware of Sirius leaning back again, waiting, but he took a moment, mouth open and panting at the feeling of his cock against the silky skin of Sirius’ thigh. It looked a deep purple against Sirius’ tan skin. He gave a few experimental ruts and nearly saw stars. Never had he been in contact with someone like this, never had he been so overwhelmed with something so good. He wanted to be filled with it, he wanted it to surround him. He stretched out his body again, reaching until he got his hand around Sirius’ cock, his mouth over the head, needing. They moaned at the same time, Sirius at the wet heat over him, Remus at the fact that he was now pressed tightly against something, slick with his own pre-come. Remus swirled his tongue and sucked, breathing through his nose. His hand reached what he could not and he felt Sirius take his other again, squeezing tightly. Remus jerked his hips forward with each bob of his head, increasing the tempo as his muscles coiled. He moaned without thinking, around Sirius’ cock, and only felt himself get harder at the way Sirius’ back arched into his lips, the way his jaw clenched through his curses.

“Fuck, fuck, Re, come here. Up here. I need-“ Sirius’ voice was lowered an octave, and Remus found he could only pull of with a lazy, reluctant pop, and look at Sirius with hooded eyes. Every nerve was buzzing, every second felt like it might be the last before he reached the edge. His cock didn’t bob when he pulled himself up onto all fours and crawled up Sirius’ body, but stood straight out, rock-hard, and dripping along Sirius’ stomach. Sirius stared at it, lips swollen and panting, before pushing his hands down onto Remus’ arse and pushing their cocks together, perfectly alined, “I need to feel all of you, _fuck-“_

Remus didn’t know what noise he made, but the next thing he knew there were tears at the edge of his eyes and he was rutting shamelessly against Sirius, hips thrusting forward in jerky, uneven motions. The slight sting of Sirius’ nails digging into his back only pushed him farther towards the edge, “Sirius-“ He finally formed, eyes squeezed so hard shut that he saw shapes, colors. He pressed his face against Sirius’ sweat-slicked neck, breathing him in, biting, hand clenched over his shoulder for leverage, “God. God, please, _please-_ “

“Yes,” Sirius gasped, “ _Yes_ , I’ve got you. Go on.” Sirius held them tightly together, pushing his hips up in time with Remus, “Go on, love, ‘m right behind you-“ Sirius’ voice pitched upward at the end of his sentence and then he was shouting Remus’ name. Remus’ eyes flew open, mouth forming a tight ‘o’ as he felt the slick, white, heat spurt between them. It was the last straw of his own resolve and he followed with a shout muffled against Sirius’ skin. He was gasping into Sirius, unable to still his hips, twitching and rubbing their sensitive cocks together.

They lay there silently for a moment, breathing against each other, feeling the other’s chests rise and fall. Remus blinked slowly, cheek pressed to Sirius’ heated skin, and smiled tiredly, barely a lift of the lips, but a smile nonetheless.

_Now. Right now I am happy._

Because he’s here. Sirius is here, and he’s not leaving until hours and hours from now. Until the sun comes up. They have time and time and time and time. Remus lets his eyes fall closed momentarily at the feeling of Sirius’ fingers through the sweaty hair against his forehead, his hand on his bare hip, thumb rubbing circles.

“You called me ‘love.’” Remus says, tongue feeling thick, body feeling thoroughly sated.

He felt the chuckle in Sirius’ chest, pressing his cheek harder to the skin, trying to memorize the feeling. A kiss was dropped to his temple, “I did. Isn’t that what you are?” He felt a shift that signaled Sirius wanted him to sit up, to look at him. He pulled his head up, chest against chest, nose to nose. Sirius pressed a kiss to his cheek, “My lover.” The other cheek, “My love.”

Remus’ heart picked up to the point where he could feel it in his fingertips. He suddenly felt afraid, like his life depended on the answer to the next question he asked, “I… I don’t know. Is that what I am?” Then softer, “Your love.”

Sirius’ eyes were soft, and he tilted his head, lips pressing together in a smile that said _of course, of course that’s what you are_. The weight was gone from Remus’ chest before he even spoke the words, before Sirius even kissed him again,

“Yes. Yes, that’s what you are.”


	8. part viii

Remus wakes up warm.

There is a plush pillow beneath his head—two, he thinks—, a heavy quilt over his bare body, and a toasty, sleeping boy pressed fully to his back. He can feel Sirius’ breaths against his neck, feel where his lips are just barely pressed there, even in sleep. His mind wanders vaguely to the thought of what time it might be, that he’ll be needed downstairs, but he cannot bring himself to care. He blinks his eyes open, and looks around the vast room. To think that, every single day, Sirius lives like this, _in_ this, is…something. Quite something. Everything is dark and gleaming. The bed is probably the most comfortable thing Remus has ever, and will ever, lay on. He looks at the tables of food that they’d barely touched, waiting, then the delicate pile of Sirius’ fine clothes that he’d all but ripped off of him the night before. He bites his lip at the thought.

“I can feel you thinking…”

Remus smiles at the sleep-slurred words that come from behind him, chest warming at the rasp in Sirius’ voice.

_Is this what you sound like every morning?_

_Will I ever find out?_

Remus closes his eyes briefly, willing away the ache, and turns in Sirius’ arms, being greeted almost instantly by a hot kiss. Remus tilts his chin forward into it, melting into the heat of Sirius’ hands, feeling their way down his rib cage to his hips, his arse. It doesn’t even feel sexual, just touching… maybe loving.

“Did you sleep well?” Sirius asks in that same voice. Remus curls his toes beneath the blankets.

“Mm.” He hums, “This bed is…” He trails off, shaking his head.

Sirius smiles sleepily. His bruises and cuts look slightly better this morning. One half of his smile is smushed against the pillow, the other causing a dimple do appear on his cheek, “Goose feathers.”

Remus lets out a laugh, allowing one of his legs to be hooked over Sirius’ hip, bringing him closer, “I’m almost positive mine’s full of hay. Hay that I get _allergic_ to in the warmer months.”

Sirius lets out a long, content sounding breath, fingers trailing softly up and down Remus’ thigh, “I can fix that.”

Remus raises an eyebrow, “Yes, because no one will notice new bedding being moved into my room.”

Sirius blinked slowly at him, smile still in place, “Who said you’d be staying in your room?”

Remus blinked, “I… Wh-“

“Because I have a better idea.” Sirius was suddenly rolling on top of him, speaking only between the many kisses he was peppering over Remus’ face, “I want—to wake up—like this every—single—morning—“ He ended with a firmer one on Remus’ lips, both of them grinning into it, “until the end of time.”

Remus let his hands find the small of Sirius’ back, feeling the warmth radiate off his skin, “That’s a pretty long time.”

Sirius shook his head, nose brushing Remus’, “Not long enough.”

And all Remus could do was let himself be kissed and kissed and kissed, taking pleasure in the sounds he drew out of Sirius’, until a new sound cause their eyes to fly open.

A crash raised from the door, and they jumped apart, hands going for the blankets, pulling them higher across their bodies. Remus felt Sirius grip his hand under the sheets.

James stood there, wide-eyed, breakfast tray at his feet, food and broken porcelain mingling on one of the fine rugs, coincidentally, by Sirius’ discarded crown.

The air felt that it had disappeared from the room as the three boys stared at one another, silent, un-moving. Remus’ chest felt tight as cold, oozing dread replaced the radiating warmth that was there just a moment ago. They’d been caught, found out. Remus felt like he was watching it happen, right next to him, all of them looking back and forth, not knowing what would happen, who would move, who would speak first.

He looked at Sirius next to him who looked more worried than scared, then back at James. James’ mouth was open a little in shock, hands poised in front of him as if they were still holding Sirius’ breakfast tray. Remus watched his throat bob around a swallow, then his eyes glance downward, “Um. Sorry. I dropped that.”

He said it like a simple observation. No one moved. Then, James cleared his throat, “I should- Um. Sorry-“ He crouched down to clean the mess, then seemed to think better of it, and was up against in a second, “Actually, maybe not. I’ll be just-“ He couldn’t seem to stop gesturing to vague parts of the room and himself with his hands, “I’ll just-“

As he turned for the door Sirius seemed to snap out of it, springing from the bed and only barely able to cover himself with the throw blanket at the end of the mattress, “James, no. Wait-“ He wobbled a bit with the effort of trying to stop his friend from leaving and secure the blanket around his waist at the same time.

James turned back around slowly, biting the inside of his cheek. Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, suddenly at a loss for words. James’ eyes, for the first time, flicked towards Remus. Remus wanted to fold in on himself. He pulled the blankets up higher, then froze at the look James was giving him back. There was no judgement in his eyes. No anger. Even most of the shock had faded away.

“Hello, Remus.” James offered an awkward little wave.

Remus blinked, then rose his hand a little in return, “Hi.”

Sirius looked between them, “Are you two friends?”

James rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh, “Sirius, honestly.”

Sirius glared at him, then it softened and he shook his head a little in realization, “No- Oh. I suppose because you both work down- Wait, I didn’t mean it like… Sorry, right. That was…”

“Idiotic?” James supplied, then, with a smile in his voice, “But, then again, I’ll let it slide. I suppose you’re a little sleep deprived.”

Remus coughed a little, face becoming hot. He was still a little caught up on how easily Sirius had taken James’ eye roll.

Sirius eyed him, re-tying the blanket around his waist then crossing his arms, “You seem very… calm. About this.”

James nudged some of the broken plate shards with his foot, “Well, if I’m being honest I sort of… figured.”

Remus’ head snapped towards him, “What?” Then he looked at Sirius, as they had said the word at the same time.

“Not about you two.” James explained quickly, “Just about it maybe being a bloke. For you.” He nodded at Sirius, “You were pretty secretive, mate. With the First Bloom stuff, I mean. I mean if it was a girl I figured you would have walked out with her… I don’t know, it was just a guess. A hunch. I don’t know why…”

Sirius nodded, still looking a little worried. He opened and closed his mouth a few more times until James sighed, “Your diction is just astounding, your majesty-“

“Fuck off.” Sirius glared but he was smiling a little, “I just… You’re not…” Sirius closed his eyes and let out a breath through his nose, saying slowly, “Most people…”

James seemed to understand, eyes softening, loosing the teasing tone, “Of course I’m fine with it. You’re my best mate, I don’t… I don’t care who your with as long as your happy.”

Remus felt his heart warm a little, and he looked back to Sirius’ face to see it considerably more relaxed, relieved.

James ran a hand through his hair, finally leaning down and scooping the broken breakfast onto the tray it had come on, “Besides, I’d much rather walk in on this than you being all bloodied up by her royal _fucking_ highness-“

Sirius made a sound like an over-exaggerated throat clearing, a panicked need to stop James’ speech in its tracks. James looked up at the same time as Remus’ heart sank. He felt the color drain from his face as he realized what James had just said. He opened his mouth to say something but found he couldn’t.

James looked at Sirius, eyes asking a silent question, before they flicked to Remus and he understood, rising and standing there uncomfortably for the second time in less than five minutes.

He held the tray tightly, “I, um… I’ll get this downstairs, then. Why don’t you just tell me when you want breakfast instead of…” He cleared his throat, “Right, okay.”

The room was once again silent when James left, and Remus waited patiently for an explanation. The shock of being found out seems dim now in comparison to this newer revelation. And Remus feels it, the familiar ache in his chest at seeing Sirius’ face cut up and bruised. But it’s stronger now, accompanied by the knowledge that the bruises aren’t voluntary, they aren’t sport, but a beating. Sirius, in just the time Remus has known him, has taken two _beatings._

_How many does that make in his lifetime?_

Remus swallowed. He didn’t want to know.

He raised up on his knees slowly, stretching his torso until he could reach Sirius’ unmoving hand and tug him back towards the bed. Sirius didn’t put up any resistance, he just seemed to be unwilling to look Remus in the eyes. He allowed the blanket to be pulled free from around his waist and nestled back under the covers. Remus kept a firm hand on his shoulder, just in case he tried to roll onto his back, or worse, face away. But Sirius showed no tension, no fight. He kept his eyes down, cheeks tinged pink. Remus tentatively placed one palm on the right one, feeling the warmth there, both from the healing wound and the embarrassment.

“You could have told me.” Remus said softly, “It’s okay that you didn’t. But just know that you could have.”

“I know.” Sirius said even quieter, lips barely moving. The words were short and clipped in an effort to conceal the tremor in his voice.

Remus brushed his thumb over Sirius’ temple, carefully avoiding the bruise, staying at the edge. His stomach felt sick now, looking at it. Looking at what the hand of his own mother had done, looking at the gash in his cheek that he’d seen once before, identical. Made by the same hand. The same ring.

“Why?”

Sirius huffed a little, “Why not?”

Remus felt every muscle in his body tense, “Wh… What?”

Sirius sighed and this time he did roll over onto his back, staring at the ceiling, “Nothing, I didn’t mean… Nothing.”

Remus pushed himself up onto one forearm, “You should learn not to say things you don’t-“

“I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I don’t know, maybe…” Sirius closed his eyes against the world, “I don’t know why she does it, okay? I’m not like her, that’s why. I’m not like _them_. I… I disagree and it embarrasses her. So she… does this.” He opens his eyes, looking at Remus finally, “Fair trade, in her book.”

“Not in mine.” Remus shot back, sitting up farther, “That’s not- I can’t believe… God, I hate this.” Remus was the one to turn away this time, sitting up, fiddling with the blankets in his lap, “She can’t just… She can’t just hurt you.”

Sirius sat up as well, pressing his shoulder to Remus’. Despite his anger, Remus was thankful for the warm gesture, “Yes, she can. Who’s going to stop her?”

“Me.” Remus grumbled, annoyed at the improbability of the statement.

He caught Sirius small smile, “My knight.”

Remus pushed lightly against his shoulder, “Not really. I can’t even lift more than two of the flour sacks at once. I’d probably just… end up shoving moldy bread down her throat and hope she chokes.”

Sirius let out one of his rare laughs then, the kind that starts with a little snort, the real kind. Remus grinned at him for a few moments, then bit the inside of his cheek,

“You don’t… You don’t think James will-“

“Not a chance. He’s my best friend, Re. Has been for forever. He won’t tell.”

Remus nodded, “Okay.” Then again, lighter, “Okay.”

Then he turned, pressed his hands to Sirius’ neck, and kissed him; he kissed his cheeks, kissed each bruise, each cut, and then kissed him again thinking that, if ever he could, he’d be a knight for Sirius. Sirius kissed Remus back thinking that he already was.

~

Sirius is still standing in front of the bookshelf that Remus had disappeared through minutes early when James walks in with a fresh breakfast tray. Sirius sighs and turns, only then finishing tying the shirt that Remus had pulled over his head with a kiss before he left.

“God, you’re like a puppy.”

Sirius tossed a pillow at him with a laugh, only narrowly missing the mug of juice on the tray, “You’re one to talk about puppies. _Lily, Lily, Lily-_ “

“O-kay.” James said breathlessly, “Alright.”

Sirius let them smile comfortably for a moment, watching James set up the tray, laying the silverware out and pouring what looked like orange juice today.

“James.”

“That’s my name.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, “I’m trying to talk to you.”

James clicked his tongue, “Yeah, see, I’m not good at talking, this is why I should be in your King’s Guard instead-“

“ _James._ ”

James set the pitcher down, “Sorry, sorry.” He straightened, dusting his hands on his dark trousers and looking at Sirius with a soft smile, “It’s just I know you’re about to thank me and you don’t have to.”

“ _Yes_ , I do.” Sirius sat on the bed, picking up a piece of bacon, “Remus has been worried about this, I think. Someone finding out. I know it’s a valid thought, but… to have it be you, and for you to so readily accept this… It just means… it means a lot. And you’re… you’re a good friend.”

James sat on the bed too, on the opposite side, “I already gave you my heartfelt speech, so I don’t know what you want me to say, mate.”

Sirius snorted, “I don’t want you to say anything, I just wanted you to know.”

James nodded, “Well, I do support you. Who’s business is it who you love, other than your own?” James smiled at Sirius’ smile, then cleared his throat, bringing a nervous hand to his neck, “In saying that…”

“In saying that…” Sirius prompted.

“Sirius, this is dangerous for you. Even more so for Remus. You have to realize that.”

Sirius straightened, “I do. I do realize that. We’re careful-“

“Sirius, your mother beats you for passing the peas wrong. If she found out, she would have the perfect grounds to dispose of you, something we both know she wants more than anything.” James passed a hand through his hair, “I don’t even want to know what she would do to Remus. He has none of the protection you do.”

Fear started to thrum in Sirius’ chest at the image, “I’d never let anything happen to Remus. I’d sooner die.”

“Well, then you’d have no control over the situation, would you?”

Sirius tossed the bacon back to his plate and flopped down on his back, “We’re _careful._ ”

“I know you are.” James pushed, “I know, I just- I’d hate to see anything happen.” Sirius looked at James’ worried, hazel eyes, “Just _keep_ being careful, okay? Your family is too unpredictable for you to let loose. I’ll even help you, in any way I can, just… keep being careful.”

~

“Why are you in opposition now? After so many days.”

Tarea’s voice was level, but her eyes were sharp and her knuckles were white. Regulus tried his hardest not to rest a comforting hand on his sword.

“It is not opposition. It’s simply a new plan. A better one.”

Her eyes flashed, “Better one?”

“What would be better then slitting his throat?” Bellatrix sneered, “Blood traitor, blood _spill._ ”

There was a murmur from the crowd at the table, a repetition of what was quickly becoming the society’s motto. Regulus felt bile churn in his stomach.

“A more beneficial one.” Regulus chose his words more carefully, “For you,” He nodded at Tarea, then flicked his eyes to Bellatrix, “And your daughter.”

Tarea’s features softened in understanding for a moment, and she sank slowly to her chair, back pin-straight. She folded her long fingers in front of her, lacing them together slowly, like if not done just right they would not fit. It was an eerie sight, “A marriage. You propose a marriage.”

The room was silent, as others processed. Regulus’ heart pounded seemingly out loud. And then Bellatrix screamed, mouth opening wide until her mother whipped her hand up, palm out, silencing her almost immediately.

“No!” She said in much softer but no less harsh tones, “No, mother! He would still be king!” She turned on Regulus, fingernails digging into the wood of the table. Her face shifted in the watery light of the window, warped and mad, “He would still be king, it would not work, it would not be the same!”

“My daughter is right.” Regulus swallowed down the panic in his chest, “A match between her and yourself would be more reasonable. Sirius is only in the way-“

“The villagers favor Sirius.” Regulus let his mouth move of its own accord, praying it said the right thing, “They always have. They would be more accepting in the beginning, thus giving us more power.”

Tarea shook her head, “I do not see how this gives us power.” Her upper lip quirked up in a sneer, “If this is a self-absorbed attempt to save your-“

“You _would_ have power.” Regulus pushed on, standing. “He would be king, but he would not be the one in charge.” Regulus swallowed thickly, placing a hand on his sword, _I’m in charge_ , “Not with something held over his head.”

All eyes snapped to him now, but he only looked at Tarea. He did not blink the entire time the small, sick smile coated her face like a liquid mask. Her fingers were winding together again,

“You wish to blackmail your brother into submission.”

“Yes.” Regulus shifted his eyes around the table. He had their attention. He let his shoulders relax some. He could win this battle now, “There are rumors of a girl. A girl he is keeping hidden. He took someone for First Bloom, that much is known.” A murmur launched around the room and Regulus easily spoke over it, “If she is of low status, this will ruin him, but either way it is before marriage. He will not want this getting out if he is to be king.”

The queen dipped her head silently, _continue._

“We will have the favor of the village, and the power you seek. At least for a time. Enough time to make you more money than I would be able to in a lifetime.”

The hall was quiet. All eyes darted between the, not one, but two suddenly prevalent power forces in the room. The elder of the two, finally leaned forward, voice like venom,

“Find the girl.”

Relief flooded Regulus’ chest.

~

Sirius regretted walking into the dining room the instant the door swung shut behind him. One look at the vast table, and he stopped in his tracks.

He’d never admit it, but at that moment he almost would have preferred his mother to be in the room. At least then he’d be able to think up a snide comment to say as he sat down. His little brother, however, who was the sole person seated for dinner so far… He hadn’t the first clue what to say to him.

The brothers stared at each other as Sirius walked slowly to the seat opposite him, holding up his hand to the waiter who tried to pull his seat out for him and did it himself. Regulus’ eyes flickered around to watch the gesture, then down to his plate. 

Sirius sat, “Hello to you, too.”

Regulus straightened his posture and Sirius couldn’t help but do the same. Nervous tick, “Hello.”

Sirius rolled his eyes a little, fingers drumming on the table cloth, “Right, well, walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

Regulus pressed on the prongs of his fork for something to do, making the handle tap against the table. Sirius kept his eyes on his brother, watching the way his hand twitched with the effort not to bring it to his mouth and bite on his nails. Sirius recognized the old habit instantly.

“So,” He leaned back in his chair, “How is your _acquirement_ going?”

Regulus’ fingers stilled, entire body suddenly not moving. Sirius didn’t even think he was breathing. Then, quietly, “Don’t ask me about that.”

Sirius scoffed, “Why, because mummy isn’t here to hear about it yet?”

“Hold your _tongue_ , Sirius-”

“Why?” Sirius pressed, “Why do you expect me to just _sit_ here while you and your new little friends destroy this kingdom?”

Regulus closed his eyes, “That’s not-“

“It _is_.” Sirius was almost yelling now, “And I’m not going to let it happen, I won’t-“

“You _have to.”_

Sirius jolted back in his seat, surprised at the way his brother had matched his volume. Regulus had looked at him in the eye for a moment, pure fire, then pressed a hand over his face, through his hair, “God. I can’t- I can’t _talk_ about this-“ He was gripping the edge of the table now and, finally, his eyes found Sirius and stood there, “Look. I don’t know what I did to make you hate me so much-“

Sirius nearly choked, “ _What_? What you did to make _me_ hate _you_? Are you fucking-“

“But I am the _only_ friend you have here.” His voice dropped to a whisper, leaning forward in his chair, “Sirius, you should see the way the act when your name is mentioned, you have _no_ idea-“

“And you’re _working with them_?” Sirius hissed back.

Regulus’ face looked almost pained, and he gave his head a fierce, clipped, shake, “I am trying to keep you _s_ -“

“Boys.”

Both brothers straightened instantly at the greeting called out. Regulus looked away from Sirius. He felt dread sink through his veins. He should have allowed more time to tell Sirius, to try to warn him of what was about to happen. He could feel his eyes on him still and looks up again, desperately trying to communicate his unfinished sentence.

_I am trying to keep you safe._

And more importantly,

_Let me._

And more importantly than that,

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry._

The Queen slid easily into her seat, allowing it to be pull and pushed in for her and a napkin to be placed into her lap, a drink into her hand, “Not arguing again, are we?”

“No, mother.” Regulus says quickly, “No.”

“I’d hope not.” The ice in her glass tinkles as she takes a sip, “Especially not on such a special occasion.”

Regulus’ heart tightens as he sees Sirius’ head snap up out of the corner of his eye. He’d hoped he’d have more time before she brought it up. He was wrong.

“Special occasion?” Sirius tried to sound casual but his voice wavered, just a little, “Not another ball, I hope. Haven’t you displayed your wealth enough?”

 _Please, Sirius._ Regulus begged, _Just don’t. Not tonight. Not tonight._

His mother laughed, long and clear, “Oh, you’ll _wish_ it was.”

Regulus kept his eyes trained on Sirius’ face, unable to help it but not exactly wanting to watch either.

Sirius rolled his eyes into his glass, mumbling, “That’ll be the day.”

“Marriage.” His mother crowed, grinning at the way Sirius’ entire body froze.

Regulus dug his fingers into the underside of the table, keeping his back perfectly straight, trying to keep his face the same as he watched Sirius.

Sirius’ eyes lost focus for a moment, staring blankly at the table as he slowly lowered his glass.

“What?” His voice came out hoarse, like his body suddenly lacked the will to function properly, much less speak.

The Queen’s smirk remained as she delicately tonged roasted pheasant onto her plate, “You knew this day was coming, did you not?”

Sirius looked like he was trying not to throw up, lips pressed together until they were nearly white, fists clenched around nothing on top of the table, “Yes.” He managed through clenched teeth. At the tremor in his voice, Regulus realized with a start that maybe he was trying not to _cry._

“Alliances must be made, Sirius. And the Lestranges are a powerful family as any-“

Sirius made a choking sound, and he was suddenly standing, “No.” He was glaring, anger replacing his emotion, “Not them. I won’t fucking-“

“Sit down this instant.” Their mother barked, fingers tight against the thin utensils she held. Sirius, slowly and stiffly, like his limbs were rebelling, sat, and she continued, “Now, Bellatrix may be a… unique girl. But her family is ruthless. Powerful. _Useful.”_

Sirius’ head was bowed, shoulders rising and falling rapidly. Regulus could feel the anger simmering, ready and waiting to boil over.

_I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry._

Sirius’ head snapped up, “This is your doing. This is you, isn’t it?”

Regulus could have jumped at the bite in his voice, but he was thankful it was directed at him all the same.

_Yes, me, be angry at me. You won’t get hurt that way._

“This is part of your fucking _society_ -”

“This is part of being _king_.”

Sirius pressed his lips together, staring at Regulus as if he had said the comment and not their mother.

The Queen stood, “You will accept these terms, Sirius. And you will do it quietly. You attract enough attention as it is. Now,” She twisted her ring around her fingers a few times, “Come.”

“Why?” Sirius spat, but his hands were shaking. Regulus’ eyes darted from the still fresh bruise on his cheek to his trembling fingers.

The Queen’s eyes flashed, “You don’t ask questions. _Come_ -“

“Wait.”

Regulus didn’t remember getting to his feet. His mother turned to him, expression warning, eyebrows raised.

“Mother, I’d like to speak to him.” He ignored the scoff from Sirius’ side of the table, “I can… inform him of the society’s reasons. The benefits.”

The Queen, to everyone’s surprise, actually looked taken off guard by Regulus’ initiative. She laced her fingers together gingerly in front of her stomach, straightening her neck and holding up her chin, “You wish to…”

“Yes.” Then hastily, “It’s my job, isn’t it?”

“Y-“ Their mother sniffed, “Yes, I suppose. Very well.” Then she turned, motioning and snapping at servants to bring her dinner to her room. She turned coldly to Sirius, “I’ve been exhausted.”

The door seemed to echo in the silence when it closed behind her. The second it does, Sirius is turning on him.

“What the fuck are you trying to pull? She’s my cousin!”

Regulus sat back down, suddenly feeling too tired to even stand. Now that his mother was gone, his adrenaline seemed to have abandoned him, “It’s very common-“

“ _Fuck_ that.” Sirius spat, “I don’t give a damn about money, I don’t give a damn about power, or bloodlines or _purity_ -“

“Exactly!” Regulus sighed, “Exactly, Sirius, and they _know_ that. That’s why you’re in this mess. They know you don’t care and that makes you _dangerous_.” Sirius sat too, making the table rattle. Regulus leaned forward, “Listen to yourself. You’re the future king and you don’t care about what they care about. They need a way to make you care. And this is it.”

Sirius looked up at that, “ _This_? This is their way to make me care? She’ll be a Queen, that is all! She won’t have power! She won’t have a say! She wouldn’t have that anywhere, especially if she is married to me. This gives them nothing!”

“Not if they can control you.” Regulus said the words quickly, as if they tasted sour.

“Yeah? And how do they plan on doing that-“

Sirius trailed off, eyes narrowing, then shifting over Regulus’ face and widening as if he were seeing him for the first time. He sat back in his chair, lips parted slightly in shock.

“You.” He breathed. He shook his head, “That’s… That’s why they chose you.” A small, disbelieving smile crossed his face, “God. God, you’re going to blackmail me, aren’t you?”

“That’s what I promised them, yes.”

Sirius looked at him, eyes tight, let down. Regulus’ heart hurt, his head hurt, everything hurt and it was all because of that _look_. Sirius let his hands fall to his lap limply, “And you think it’s _me_ that hates _you_? With _what_?”

Regulus grid his teeth against the sting in his eyes, “There’s a girl, isn’t there? A servant girl? A common girl?”

“A _sex_ scandal?” Sirius tried to scoff but there was fear in his eyes. Real fear.

“This was the best deal I could get. I- I needed something to keep myself in their circle. So I could keep some- some sort of control over the situation, I-” Regulus felt like he had been pleading with him for days, “Sirius, they were going to- They wanted to-“

He couldn’t finish, but Regulus could see he understood. Sirius turned from the table, nearly knocking his chair down in his haste to get up, and then stopped a few steps from the door, fists clenched. He didn’t turn back, but looked slightly over his shoulder, jaw prominent. The air was still for a moment, and then,

“You’ve tied me to a fate worse than death. I hope you realize that.”

And then Regulus was sitting alone.


	9. part ix

Sirius’ world stopped like a punch delivered to the jaw. It was roaring, the fight was on, and then he was down, wind knocked out of him. He slammed the door against Regulus and leaned against it, breathing hard into the humid wood.

_Marriage._

Sirius slammed his hand against the wall, the smack of skin against stone echoing through the hallway. He hit it again, and again, needing the sting to combat the pounding in his chest. Blood felt like it was rushing out of his veins, into his being, flooding and choking him. He felt too hot, too breathless, too _much._

The wedding.

He’d always known it was coming but now that it was here he felt as if he had never known it was coming at all. Reality is very different from eventuality. He pushed off the wall, feeling drunk with his sorrow, and stumbled, eyes aimless, towards the stairs. He gripped the railing as he walked down, feeling his head start to steady with the now familiar path. He stopped at the kitchen door, just out of sight. Waves of heat coming from the ovens inside brushed his more visible cheek. His breath panted through his parted lips, heart beating too fast for his lungs. He clenched his teeth and tried to breath slowly through his nose, and then forgot all about his breathing all together. Maybe air too.

Because suddenly Remus was there, walking into his small window of view, breathless smile on his face and laughing, hands full of strawberries. Someone was stoking the fire, the loud whooshes of the blower and the crackling flames overtaking most of the sound and conversation, but Sirius was content to watch. The sight brought a awful throbbing up behind his eyes and he squeezed them shut hard for a second before opening then onto the scene that, if he had to define heartache for someone, he’d show them this. He’d show them _them_. Him and Remus. Happy and doomed. On a very quickly burning wick. One that had felt like they could slow down, or maybe keep relighting, until just now.

He swallowed. He didn’t want that to be true. He couldn’t lose that smile, not yet.

Remus’ hair was curly from the heat, smaller curls sticking to his skin at his temples. He’d gained more freckles from the summer sun and he was tanner too. Sirius’ eyes moved to his neck. It had a slight sheen of sweat and Sirius had to lean his temple against the wall for a moment at the thought of how, just there, at the hollow of his throat, it always smelled so sweet. Like sugar and firewood smoke. He couldn’t lose that, he _couldn’t_. His hands suddenly felt empty with lack of holding him, and Sirius looked to the loosely tied apron around Remus’ waist, wanting to pull the strings loose and hold him around his hips.

_How much longer will I be able to do that?_

The thought was enough to deliver the punch all over again and he let the air out of his lungs, as if he really had been hit in the stomach. For a second, he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to breath in again.

“Hey-” Sirius jumped, turning to see James standing there with a hand over his mouth. He put his hands up, looking sheepish, and exaggeratedly tip-toed to Sirius’ other side, out of view of the door, “Shit, sorry. Are we spying on lover boy? How very french of you.”

Sirius definitely couldn’t breathe now. He just stared at his friend, watching him try to get a look at Remus.

“Hm, chopping strawberries. Delicious. Sort of sexy. You know,” he shrugged, “as far as food goes, I suppose.” He craned his neck, “Want me to get mum out of there? I mean, _try_ to. If she’s doing dessert it’s going to be pretty difficult but-“

James took one look at Sirius’ face and stopped talking, smirk melting like chocolate over flames. His brows pulled low, eyes flickering over his face, “Sirius- God, what’s wrong?” James placed a strong hand on his shoulder, “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

Sirius finally dragged his eyes away from James, looking back to Remus, at the way his eyes and nose crinkled as he laughed particularly hard, at the long fingers he pushed through his hair, getting it off his forehead.

“He looks so happy.”

“Well,” James shook his head a little, looking briefly to Remus then back, “Yeah. Of course, he does. You did too a few days ago, I don’t… I don’t understand, what happened?” Then his eyes widened, “Fuck, is this about what I said? Because if it is, Jesus, don’t listen to me. You’re fine, I was just being- I don’t know, my _mum_. Sirius-“

“It’s not what you said.”

James cut off, swallowing unsurely, “Oh. Okay, then… then what?”

Sirius turned back to him, desperately not wanting to say it, desperately needing his friend to just know. The throbbing was back, along with a lump in his throat, “James…” He felt his voice crack.

James blinked, then blinked again, and then the understanding was there. His hand tightened on Sirius’ shoulder, “Oh god…”  
Sirius closed his eyes, turning away.

“God… Sirius.” And then Sirius was being pulled away into what he vaguely registered as some sort of office, and against a chest in a very tight, very welcomed hug. They swayed silently, James fingers sure and solid against the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry.” James’ voice shook a little, and the fact that his grief could bring James so much as well made him want to cry too. Does he bring nobody anything but grief? “I’m so sorry.”

Sirius pulled back and he looks at the darkened spots on the shoulder of James’ shirt numbly. James’ hands were still on his shoulders, steadying him, “When did this happen? At dinner?”

Sirius pressed his palms to his eyes, nodding, “To Bellatrix. To Bellatrix, James.”

By the time he was done telling him, about Bellatrix, about the society, about Regulus, James looked as ready to throw something as he did when he woke Sirius up only to discover he had a fresh black eye.

“Fucking hell… And there’s no getting out of it?”

Sirius shot him a look and James swore again.

“Why did this have to happen now?” Sirius kicked the chair with enough effort to make it wobble, not enough to knock it over. He pushed his hair off his forehead, letting it fall back with a sigh, “When I have everything to lose… I- I can’t even imagine…”

For a fleeting moment, a terrible image of him as king, Bellatrix by his side and Remus, just down stairs, a million miles away filled his head. He felt sick.

James took a seat on the chair he’d kicked, possibly a subtle gesture to keep him from doing it again, and didn’t answer right away. Then, tentatively looking up at him, “Are… Did you come down here to tell him?”

“No.” Sirius said immediately.

James raised an eyebrow, “No?”

Sirius turned away, “No.”

There was a slight pause, “You aren’t going to tell him?” Sirius didn’t answer, “Sirius.”

“I don’t…” Sirius pressed his lips together in frustration, _I don't want to_ , “I don’t know.”

He heard James get to his feet behind him, “Jesus Christ, Sirius-“

He turned, “Not _yet_.” James took a step back at the bite in his tone but didn’t look surprised. The anger on Sirius’ face melted as soon as it had come, and all he felt was hopeless. He looked at James, desperate for him to understand, “I can’t. I can’t lose him yet. I can’t…”

James hesitated, then nodded, eyes roaming the room as if looking for an explanation, “He’s going to find out though. You know that, sooner or later-“

“I know.” Just not yet.

“Well… Then you’re going to have to pretend like everything’s, fine, normal, whatever it is between you too.”

Sirius sank into the chair that James had occupied and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back in frustration, “No, _no_ , he’s going to know something’s wrong.”

“Not if you-“

“He’ll know.” Sirius cut him off.

James fidgeted, “Oh..kay.” He drew the word out, sighing, “Well.”

Sirius opened his eyes, “Well?”

James shrugged, looking helpless and sorry for it, “Play it by ear.” Then, after a hesitation, “It’d be easier to just tell him.”

Sirius shook his head, “Not now. Please. I’ll- I’ll figure something out.” He wasn’t exactly sure why he was begging. James couldn’t do anything, couldn’t force him. Sirius pressed his palms to his forehead, letting out a shuttering breath.

“Just don’t keep it from him forever. It’ll ruin him and yourself if he finds out the wrong way. You know it will.”

Sirius looked down, turning his head away sharply as if that would send away the images of Remus’ smile falling from his face that filled his mind.

The path to ruin already felt well underway.

~

Remus untied his apron, deliberating whether or not it was too early to sneak up the main staircase to the secret passage way. He’d slept in Sirius’ room four nights now and he already almost couldn’t remember what it felt like _not_ to sleep next to Sirius. Of course, he always had to get up before him, rising with the sun. He usually just settled with pressing a kiss to Sirius’ still sleeping form but, once, Remus had woken up to Sirius’ eyes already on him.

He hadn’t looked like he was thinking, or wondering, or analyzing. He was just smiling, only a little, with his eyes hooded and tired. Once Remus’ eyes opened, fast and awake in a moment as usual, his smile had grown and he had brought his hand to Remus’ cheek. Remus could almost see the way the orange morning sun had softly bathed his face, making his grey eyes a sea-glass-like blue instead of grey. Luminescent and layered, like pools of shallow water. They had just laid there, staring and smiling at each other, letting the sun warm their bare bodies and tangled limbs. No words had been said, not even when Remus left with a kiss to Sirius’ lips, but the feeling was there. The feeling that was so strong, Remus couldn’t even be sure they hadn’t put it into words, in their own way.

As he picked his way through the dark passage way now, the back of the bookshelf-door coming into view, the words played in his head on loop.

He pushed the bookshelf, letting it give away easily to his strength and slipping through the opening. He waits for the hands, for the lips that are usually on him the second he arrives, but they don’t come. He blinks and looks around.

“Sirius?”

“In here!” And then a second later, “Don’t bother bringing your clothing!”

The voice comes from the connected bathroom, echoing a little off the tiles. A thrill shoots up Remus’ spine at what he might find when he walks in there. He slipped his shoes off on his way, biting back a smile. He entered the bathroom a little hesitantly, poking his head through first. He’d never been in this part of Sirius’ chambers before. He had to lean against the wall for a second at what he finds, grin spreading across his face.

Sirius was sat in a steaming, large, ceramic bath, skin gleaming with the moisture, hair curling from it, and grinning lazily. His arms were thrown over the sides, giving Remus a very good view of his broad shoulders and chest, both well muscled. He looked practically golden against the white tiles, traced with smaller green stones. Remus pressed a hand to his chest, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

“Thought I told you not to bring your clothes?” Sirius flicked the water with his fingertips, the tiniest of drops reaching Remus.

Remus raised an eyebrow, hand shifting to pulling at the ties of his shirt, slowly loosening the neck as he walked forward. He wasn’t exactly fond of his body, as it was quite thinner than Sirius’, but the look in Sirius’ eyes as the shirt slipped down one of his shoulders let him know that he was the only one. He felt confidence swell in his chest, “Thought you might enjoy the show instead.”

Sirius’ eyes fluttered a little as he laughed, sinking into the water up to his neck, “Fuck.”

Remus tugged his shirt over his head, letting it fall on top of the pile Sirius had already started. He picked his foot up, stretching his torso back a little to pull his sock off, “Unless you want to help, of course.”

Remus had barely finished his sentence before Sirius was pushing forward, floating a second in the water before he hit the other side, water sloshing dangerously and fingers wrapping around the edge, “God, yes.” His hands were instantly on the buttons of Remus’ trousers, material becoming dark with the wetness on them. He pushed the material down over Remus’ arse, pausing only for a moment to let Remus kick them away before he was nuzzling against Remus’ stomach, “So warm.”

Remus’ breath hitched at how soft his voice was, his breath against his stomach. His fingers automatically went to his hair just as Sirius’ came to wrap loosely around his hips, stroking the backs of his thighs lightly. Despite the heavy steam filling the room, Remus shivered, “Yeah?” He breathed.

“Mm.” Sirius started pressing open-mouthed kisses to Remus’ skin, lips parting to bite gently at his hip bone, “So warm and… God, your taste…”

Remus let his eyes close, his head fall back at the feeling of Sirius so close, holding him. He waits for this all day. This closeness, it never leaves the back of his mind. He tightened his fingers in Sirius’ hair, looking back down to him, watching the way his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks. He ran his fingers through the dark, slightly damp strands, pushing them away from his forehead, letting his fingers press into his skin, “Sirius-”

“Let me. I’ve got you..” There was suddenly a note of urgency to Sirius’ voice and Remus felt his fingers dig into the flesh of his thighs, “I’ve got you..”

“I know.” His breathing hitched, voice rising a little in tone, “I know-” And then Remus’ jaw was falling open as, for the first time, Sirius’ took him in his mouth, “God. God, Sirius…”

Sirius’ palms flattened against the small of Remus’ back, running up and down as if he was trying to soak in the heat. He knelt up on the tiled seat beneath the water, and brought one of his hands forward to wrap around the base of Remus’ cock. He took long, slow drags, breathing in through his nose.

Remus’ thighs hit the cool edge of the bath as his knees gave way a little, sinking into the feeling of Sirius’ lips around him, “God…”

Sirius just hummed, causing Remus to jolt and grasp his shoulder, fingers digging into the bone. The feeling suddenly brings him much closer to the edge than before. It was everything, really. The waiting, wanting to see each other. The secret. The heat. Sirius and his glistening skin, on his knees in front of him. The irony of that last part, for the moment at least, was lost on Remus. Sirius’ fingers tightened on the base of Remus’ cock, causing his breaths to come shallowly, his hands to tremble. He looked down again, and when he saw the way one of Sirius’ hands was working on himself, he was gone, letting out a cry and gripping Sirius’ shoulder, “Yes. _Yes_ , Jesus…” His words only seemed to spur Sirius on and he stiffened a moment later, his moan sending jolts of pleasure up Remus’ spine.

As his breathing came down, Sirius pulled off slowly, switching to pressing soft kisses on his hips. His mouth was slow and he seemed to be more simply pressing, feeling, than actual kissing, “You know, I could kiss every inch of you.”

Remus grins sleepily, eyes hooded but bright, hands still in Sirius’ hair, “I don’t think I’d protest.”

His hands are back on Remus’ hips, pulling slightly, urging him into the water with him. Sirius is grinning but his eyes look slightly tight around the edges, “Come here.”

Remus obliged, lifting one thigh, then the other, laughing when Sirius bent to kiss the soft skin between them as he did. When his feet hit the water, he gasped despite himself. He had known it was going to be warm, he’d seen the steam, but it took him by surprise.

Sirius’ brows creased as he looked up at him, seating Remus on the ledge, water coming up just around his calves, “What? What is it, what’s wrong?”

Remus let out a little surprised laugh at the ferocity of Sirius’ concern, “Nothing.” He let the pad of his thumb run briefly across Sirius’ lip, then reached up to smooth his brow, “Nothing’s wrong at all, I just…” He shrugged, a little embarrassed, and let his fingers drag through the water, “It’s hot. It’s not usually hot.”

Sirius’ frown disappeared in understanding and he grinned, pressing up on the step once more so they were chest to chest. His skin was warm, “There’s coals beneath the floor.” He leaned in a nipped gently at the skin below Remus’ ear, “I can have them stoked as long as I’d like… We can be in here… for hours, and hours…”

Remus grinned, throwing his arms around Sirius’ neck as he pulled him into the water. They were pressed together, and Sirius wrapped Remus’ legs around his waist, walking them backwards until they were sat at the far side of the square bath again.

“This-” Remus let his eyes close as Sirius kissed his neck. He can’t remember ever feeling so warm and, as he realized, safe. He’d never felt so _safe_ , “This is more like a small pond than a bath.”

Sirius hesitated for a moment, too busy nosing at the hollow of Remus’ throat. He tried to push away the pangs to his chest that the sweet smell there brought.

“It is this size for the sole purpose so that you can come in here with me.” He felt the slight tension in Remus’ back muscles and moved swiftly to press a long, hard kiss to Remus’ lips, murmuring, “And no one else.”

“Hm.” Remus hummed. He pulled back, only for a second, to see Sirius’ face, “Good.” Then he smiled and kissed him again, letting Sirius’ tongue part his lips and pressing his palms to Sirius’ cheeks, thumbs smoothing over the heated flesh. His hands moved to the back of his neck and he freezes, lips parting in surprise against Sirius’.

“Hm?” Sirius says breathlessly, “What?”

“What’s this?”

Sirius tilts his head a little and then he feels what Remus’ fingers are running over. He swallows, “Oh. I…Oh.”

Remus tilted his neck forward a little, hands running through his hair to push it away and then cursing, “Jesus. Sirius are these- are these from- _fingernails_?”

Sirius bites his lip but he knows there’s no point in lying. He runs his hands over Remus’ back, but he’s not sure who he’s trying to comfort more, “I- yes. Look, it’s, I don’t know-“

“Don’t say it’s fine.” Remus’ eyes are hard, “It isn’t fine-“

“I know, I know.” Sirius desperately wants Remus to stop looking at him like that. Not when they have so little time. Not _now_ , “It’s just- It’s like her way of reigning me in. Like pulling on a horse’s lead.”

Remus’ hands tighten in his hair, his face going slightly white, “Sirius, do you even _hear_ yourself-“

Sirius feels panic swelling in his chest, and he brings his hands to Remus’ where they are placed on his chest and holds them between his, “Please. Please, Re, I don’t want to talk about this now.” He brings Remus’ knuckles briefly to his lips before releasing them in favor of holding him against him, “Please.”

Remus’ cheeks were flushed and pink in the dim candle light of the bathroom, his eyes worried. He reached out and touched the pink scar on Sirius’ lip, thick and raised from years of being re-opened, then leaned forward and brushed his own against it, “You can’t keep secrets for her. Not this one. Not like this.” He lets their foreheads fall together, “This is not your secret to keep. You don’t have to-“

“I do have to.” Sirius paused, eyes squeezing shut, trying to focus on Remus, his heat, his smell, him, “There are so many things I have to do… Remus…” _Tell him Tell him Tell him._

_I can’t._

“No, there aren’t.” Remus said it simply, pressing his face into the warmth of Sirius’ neck. Sirius relaxed into the water, leaning back and resting his palm on the back of Remus’ head, holding him there. His cheek rested against his temple, “There aren’t.” Remus said again, softer.

He wanted nothing more than that to be true.

“Let’s not talk about this now.” Sirius said just as quietly. He closed his eyes, feeling Remus’ breath and fingers tracing over the small crescent moon scars on his neck. He felt a flutter and realized it was Remus’ eyelashes, blinking against his shoulder, “I’m okay, Remus. I am.”

“I know.” Remus’ voice was slightly muffled against his skin, “Just… I don’t like that you think they have this much control over you.”

Sirius trailed his fingers down the nobs of Remus’ spine, feeling, memorizing, “I was born into this life.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to _live_ this life.” Remus lifted his head, brow creased, “It’s your life.” Remus watched Sirius’ face for a moment, tilting his head a little, “You don’t believe me.”

Sirius sighed, “It isn’t about belief-“

“Yes, it is.” Remus cut him off, “Sirius,” he licked his lips, gathering his thoughts, “You started believing, somewhere down the line, that it was okay for your mother to do this to you. It isn’t. You believe that your life course is set. It _isn’t_. I mean, God, shouldn’t the fact that we’re sitting here talking— _bathing_ —together right now be enough to prove to you that courses change? Paths change, life, _beliefs_ change?” When Sirius just looked at him, something unreadable in his expression, Remus pressed on, “When we first met you were so, so rude. You thought you were above and I was below. Do you believe that now?”

“No.” Sirius said immediately, “No, of course not-“

“See?” Remus’ fingers wound themselves through Sirius’ hair, suddenly feeling desperate. He wasn’t talking about Sirius’ mother anymore, no matter how important it was. He was talking about them, about himself.

_Believe in me. Believe in us. Don’t leavedon’tleavedon’tleave don’t leave me._

“See, you changed. You changed your beliefs about me. You can do it again.” He pressed a soft kiss to Sirius’ mouth, “Sirius, you don’t deserve this torture. You don’t deserve to be hurt, or to be ‘reigned in.’” Remus whipped wetness from Sirius cheek and Sirius blinked a few times, like he hadn’t realized it was there, “You deserve the world, no matter how big or small it is—I have no idea—but you _deserve_ it. Look what you grew up in and look how you are.” Remus’ voice cracked, “You’re good. God, you’re so good… You deserve to choose.”

Sirius’ cheeks were streaked now, eyes brimmed with tears, “I don’t know how. What if it’s too late, I don’t know _how_ -”

Remus pressed his forehead to Sirius’, “Yes, you do. You _do_ , Sirius-“

“Remus…”

Remus stopped talking at the note in Sirius’ voice. He thinks he might have stopped breathing too. He’d never seen Sirius cry, not like this. He’d never seen him look so… hopeless. He just looked hopeless. His hands were on his cheeks in a moment, hating the way Sirius seemed to crumple against them. His tears fell into the hot water just as fast as Remus could wipe them away. Sirius pulled at Remus’ hands, turning away, causing panic to swell in Remus’ chest, “Sirius- Hey. Hey, it’s okay, love-“

“ _No_.” Sirius voice caught, but at least he was looking at Remus again. His eyes were wild, and Remus didn’t know what was more present there, tears or fear, “No, it isn’t… It isn’t.” His voice had dropped to a whisper, and he pulled Remus against him, causing the water to ripple out around them. His fingers dug into Remus’ ribs, “It isn’t okay.”

Remus’ fingers were shaking now, on the verge of tears himself, “Shh. Please, shh…” He pushed the hair back from Sirius’ forehead, “Okay, don’t think about it now. It’s just us here. None of that, none of them..” He put his lips shakily to Sirius’, soft presses, “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

Sirius nodded, tilting his chin up into the kisses, “Re..”

Remus cupped his face, palms on his neck, thumbs on his cheeks, “I know. I’m sorry, I pushed too hard, I’m sorry… You’re okay-“

“No. No, that isn’t-“ His voice choked off, “That isn’t what…” Sirius let out a shuddering breath, “God, I can’t fucking breathe.”

“Don’t say that.” Remus whispered. He couldn’t seem to still his hands, comforting, feeling, needing Sirius to know he was there, “I’m- What can I do?”

For a few moments, there was only the soft sound of the water against the sides of the bath, and of their breathing. Ripples appeared on the surface of the water when Sirius reached up, cupping the back of Remus’ neck. He shook his head a little, leaning into Remus’ palm.

_Tell him tell him tell him._

_I can’t._

“Don’t leave. Just don’t leave.”

~

They threw Sirius’ windows open, dragging the large, soft sofa in front of them and letting the warm night air dry their bare skin. They were a tangle of limbs and calming breath, passing the time with kisses and soft touches; Remus’ to dry Sirius’ tears, Sirius’ to memorize, re-memorize, and cherish.

Remus was draped over Sirius’ body, skin against skin, hands in his hair and mouth parting his with slow, long kisses. Sirius’ lips were pliable against his own, letting Remus taste every inch of him. Every once in a while, he’d feel Sirius smile into the kisses, and his heart felt a little lighter each time.

“‘m here.” He said again. He’d been repeating the phrase every few minutes for the last half hour, and he wasn’t prepared to stop any time soon.

Sirius smiled a small smile again, “I believe you.” His voice was still a little thick from crying, eyes puffy, but it only made Remus want to kiss him again. He leaned in again only to find his way blocked by a thumb pressing into his bottom lip. He sent Sirius a questioning look and was rewarded with another soft grin, a little nervous this time, “I… I have something for you.”

Remus raised his eyebrows, then bit softly at Sirius’ thumb, making him crinkle his nose a little but smile, “For me?”

“Mhm.” Sirius nudge his nose against Remus’, “You’ll have to let me up a moment though. To fetch it.”

“Well then.” Remus attempted to make himself as heavy as possibly, dropping his head into Sirius’ neck, “I don’t know if I want it if it means giving this up.”  
Sirius laughed, sniffling, but Remus grinned as he felt the rumble in his chest, “It’ll be a moment only. Please? Here,” Remus felt a hand press against his back, keeping him in place while Sirius leant up, snagging a blanket from the far end of the sofa and dragging it loosely over Remus’ body, “To keep you warm while I’m away, yeah?”

Remus sighed dramatically, biting gently at Sirius’ neck in protest before rolling off him, throwing his arm over his eyes, “You take me in the bath and then leave me. How typical.”

He heard Sirius laugh, cough a little, and pad across the room. He heard a drawer open and close, and it was only seconds later before a heavy weight was back on his chest, causing him to choke out a laugh and blink against the flickering candle light, “Jesus.” Sirius’ face hovered above him, thighs straddling his hips. Remus rubbed his hands up his sides, “Back so soon?”

“With gifts.” 

Remus pressed his hands to the warmth of Sirius’ back, feeling the hard muscles there, “I don’t need gifts.”

“You get them anyway.” Sirius sat up, perching himself on Remus’ hips. Remus tried not to think to hard about the fact that the only thing separating them was a _very_ thin blanket. Sirius held out two fists, “Pick a hand.”

Remus grinned, hands inching up Sirius’ thighs, “Can’t I pick something else?”

A flush appeared on Sirius’ neck, cheeks heating with arousal, and he smiled down at Remus, subtly admiring the way his hair was splayed against the pillows, “After, be my guest.”

Remus hummed, satisfied, and looked between the two, “Okay… That one.”

Sirius hesitated, then the corners of his mouth turned down in the way they did when he was trying not to smile, “Um. Pick again.”

Remus snorted, then pointed to the other, “ _That_ one, then.”

Sirius grinned, “Right, now close your eyes.”

Remus groaned, “You take an awful long time to give presents.” He mumbled.

“Oh, hush.”

Remus flicked his hands in surrender and closed his eyes.

For a moment he felt no movement, just the breeze coming in from the window. Then there were fingers trailing on his cheek, his neck, his chest.

“Please tell me I’ve said how gorgeous you are.”

Remus smiled, the candles creating soft oranges and pinks through his eyelids, “You have.”

The fingers trailed down his arm to his hand, catching his fingers, “Remind me to tell you more often then.” Then, something cool pressed around one finger and Remus’ eyes flew open, falling instantly to the small golden band that now adorned his hand.

He pushed himself up, only just catching Sirius from sliding off his lap, hand clutching his hip, “Sirius…”

“It’s not all the trouble you’re thinking of right now. It, um. Well, it was mine. Only I think it’s kind of stupid to wear your own initial around but…” Sirius took a large breath, “But I thought… maybe you’d…”

Remus blinked and, looking closer, he saw that there was indeed a small, delicate _SB_ inscribed on the ring. The air in his lungs suddenly felt all too slight. He adored it automatically.

“I mean, I know you can’t actually wear it with, you know, work and- well, the fact that this is… what it is but… knowing you’ll have it… I’d like that.” Sirius huffed, fiddling with Remus’ fingers, “I just know it’s hard to see each other sometimes.” Then, quieter, “I just want you to know…” Remus looked away from the ring to Sirius’ face. His eyes were fixed on their hands, eyelashes long and lip between his teeth, “Remus, I think of you always.” He looked up, brows drawn together, “And nothing will change that. No matter what.” He swallowed, shaking his head, “Not ever.”

He was kissing Sirius before his brain caught up. And the thought was in the back of his mind, the melancholy, the need to memorize this moment for later. For after. And the words were there too. The words that felt like they had been said so many times. And the feeling, so overpowering that Remus felt dizzy. He wanted to say it, he _needed_ to say it… But what happened then? This ring, these promises… what then? When the spell broke and reality set it. Remus kissed Sirius harder, pressing him back against the pillows, feeling the cool metal of his promise around his finger, pushing the thoughts away.

Love was a very real thing, a very permanent thing. Love broke down walls. And Remus wanted so badly to leave himself unprotected.

~

Sirius was late to dinner the next night. He’d spent almost the entire day sleeping or eating, as Remus had made clear that he would be taken to the doghouse by Ms. Potter if he was late to any more meal preps. He was right, really. They were slipping. They had to spread out their visits, not let anyone catch suspicion. And it killed Sirius, but Remus was right.

He’d overslept and was trying desperately to fix his hair as he walked in, only to freeze. There, filling the usually empty seats, was the Lestrange family. Ice had replaced the air in the room.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Sirius.” Duchess Lestrange smiled at him, thin lipped and rigid.

He glanced at his mother who was already twisting her ring around her finger, as if preparing, eager to slice it against his cheek once more.

“My apologies.” His voice came out stronger than he’d expected and he was grateful for that. Remus’ voice played in his head. _You don’t deserve this._

He began to move around the table, to sit beside Regulus, when the duchess motioned for one of the servants.

“Boy, pull this chair for him.”

Sirius kept his eyes down, already knowing who that chair would be next to. He stiffened and sat without a word, ignoring Bellatrix’s eyes on him to his left, his mother’s to his right.

“Good.” His mother said, “Now that we’re all present we can discuss business.”

Sirius straightened, “No need to stall on my account.” He grumbled.

“Quiet.” His mother snapped. She turned to the duchess and Sirius promptly tuned out. He tried to focus on what would come after dinner. Remus would appear through the bookshelf and, for a time, everything would be alright.

He ignored the bread basket being offered to him from a servant to his right. Remus would be there. Perhaps he’d draw them another bath. He’d ruined that last one, or almost did at least. He’d lied away for what felt like hours after Remus fell asleep, angry with himself. He’d wasted so much of the night, the night that could be one of their lasts.

Sirius huffed, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again his brother was staring at him, and, strangely enough, the bread basket was still there. He leaned away a little, as the basket was being pushed rather insistently into his face. He rolled his eyes, ready to wave his hand and snap at the waiter that he obviously did _not_ want bread.

Only it wasn’t just bread that surrounded the basket. A glint caught his eye and set his brain in motion. Sirius’ breath caught. He noticed the long fingers first. The familiar chip in the thumbnail that had yet to grow back, the pink grease scars that littered the back of the palms. And a ring. A ring with a small _SB_ carved faintly into the band. Sirius swallowed, an uncomfortable mix of dread and elation filling his chest. He glanced up, taking a roll at the same time, needing an excuse to be staring at a servant.

Remus stared back at him, dressed in a uniform that looked to big for him. To anyone else at the table, his face would have appeared blank. But Sirius could see the delight in his eyes. Remus’ mouth curved upwards, just a little. Sirius wanted so badly to smile back. Any other night this would have been the best of surprises, having Remus here at dinner with him, just beside him. He would have made a game of brushing their hands together, of making eye contact across the room and rolling his eyes at what his mother was saying, trying to make him laugh. _Any other night._ Sirius felt his face pale and a crease appeared between Remus’ brow when he, no doubt, noticed how white Sirius had just gone. How he was in no way smiling back at him.

Sirius turned sharply in his seat, away, causing his water glass to rattle, breathing hard.

_No. No, you can’t be here. Not nownotnownotnow. Why was he here?_

Sirius looked around for James and didn’t see him. A replacement then.

“Oh, do try to sit still, Sirius.” His mother snarled, “For God’s sake, you’re not a child anymore.”

The table went strangely silent as they waited for Sirius to bite back and, when he didn’t, the conversation resumed too slowly. Sirius looked up then, glancing at each person, making sure they hadn’t noticed his small panic. Most were preoccupied with each other or food. Bellatrix seemed to be trying to shove an entire slab of butter onto her bread. His mother and aunt were in quiet conversation. Regulus…

Sirius’ stiffened, what little bread he had taken turning to ash in his mouth.

Regulus was staring right at him, his own roll in hand. Remus was to his left, moving on to the next guest. Regulus’ face was neutral, but the roll in his hand was nearly crushed. Sirius straightened and looked away.

“It’s certainly a fine plan, is it not?”

The duchess nodded once, back straight as a steel rod, “It will certainly bring in a generous sum. You have your younger, to thank for that.”

Regulus inclined his head stiffly, “I would do whatever it takes to keep the crown in power and at peace.”

His mother raised her glass at him, “A marriage is a fine solution to both necessities.”

And that was it. It was out. 

Sirius felt sick. Sweat dripped down his spine. He saw Remus look up from where he was now standing against the wall, hands respectfully behind his back, waiting to be of service. Sirius couldn’t look at him. Instead, he trained his eyes on his mother, silently begging, _willing_ her to change the topic of conversation. It was no use.

“Now, Sirius, Bella, I feel I must ask your opinion on dates. A summer wedding would possible, if not a little rushed-“

“I don’t want to get married when it’s cold.” Bellatrix wined, “I _want_ a _summer_ gown.”

The two women laughed and Sirius winced, keeping his eyes firmly on his plate. He held his hand over his glass, preventing the servant from serving him more wine.

“Well, it’s settled then. Sirius, I assume you want nothing to do with such… trivial matters.”

“Yes.” Sirius looked up at the venom in his mother’s tone, “All he has to do is show up.”

Her eyes bore into him. They said what she didn’t have to. _And you_ will _show up._

There was a sudden clatter, making everyone jump. Everyone except Sirius, who wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to move again. Sirius eyes went instantly to the now empty place Remus had been, and then to the source of the noise. Remus stood there, wine bottle in hand, face white and expression shocked, blank.

The Queen stood up, whipping her napkin down, “You _fool!”_

“I-“ Remus’ voice barely came out and Sirius heart ached. Their eyes met across the room, for just a moment, but Sirius tried to cram every single word that he couldn’t say into that look.

_I’m sorry. You weren’t meant to find out like this. I’m sorryI’msorryI’msorry-_

“Your Highness, my apologies, I… I- I stand in for another today-“

“And are clearly not up to the task.” The Queen bit back, falling restlessly back into her seat, “I shall have a word with Ms. Potter. _Clean this up._ ”

Remus was out of the room in a second, fingers shaking on the handles of the servant’s door.

Sirius couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even remember a time when there had been air in his lungs. He felt as though he were falling apart. Or was it that he was being ripped, piece by piece. He stood, seeing stars.

“Sirius. Sirius, _sit_ this instant.” His mother sounded as though she were speaking through a layer of cotton in his ears.

Regulus was looking at him again, and his firm, dark eyes were the last thing Sirius saw before he fled the room, big, oak doors banging shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, we are getting near the end now! One or two more chapters left, really! I just want to say a quick thank you for everyone's support on this story. Every single comment makes me cry tears of joy I mean w o w the stuff you guys say and think of is beautiful and you are all beautiful and your minds are beautiful. Thank you so much.
> 
> Oh, and one more thing: beware. angst ahead. prepare yourselves.


	10. part x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know this is ten thousand times shorter than the chapters usually are but I really felt this needed to be its own piece. Hope you enjoy! The next chapter should be up soon. I'm going to be on a flight so I hope to write it up then! Thank you all for your incredible comments and feedback. I love nothing more than reading what you guys think will happen, what you hope will happen, and your favorite parts/lines are. Thank you thank you <3 <3 <3

Every motion seemed to echo around him. Every rustle of clothing as he ran, every footstep that echoed through the castle halls. It was all in slow motion, the stone scraping his fingertips as he turned a corner, the doors closing behind him. His own breathing sounded loud in his hears as Remus ran down the stairs, dust stirring up in his wake, and pushed through the kitchen door and out into the summer night air. And even then he didn’t stop running.

The grass scratched against James’ uniform, too big on his body, the moisture in the air making it stick to his skin. He didn’t even know where he was going until he got there. He didn’t think, didn’t even allow himself to breathe. All he knew was that he had to get away. He had to _leave_. He was going to _break_. And he couldn’t do it there. Not in front of them. Not in front of anybody.

He was running, and then he was falling, palms stinging as they dug into rough, rocky, sand. It sifted through his fingers and he gasped, lungs burning, heart pumping too fast for the sudden lack of motion. He looked up and found the lake. It was quiet. He was alone. He let himself fall to his elbows and his pressed his forehead against the backs of his hands, his lungs letting the first sob tear up his throat. It hurt. Crying like this, it hurt so much. He dug his fingers into the rocky sand, as if it would hold him together. But it didn’t. It crushed into finer grains, the larger shards dug into his palms, and it slipped through his fingers.

He tried to breathe against his tears, tried to stop them as they tumbled out from his eyes, but he only choked.

This is what he had prepared himself for. This is what he had _known_ was going to happen. Hadn’t they both known it? Hadn’t it been perfectly clear from the very beginning? Remus had been temporary in Sirius’ life. Remus had been a distraction from the things Sirius didn’t want to think about. Had been. Only it wasn’t like that anymore, was it? It hadn’t been like that for a while. What Remus was to Sirius and what Sirius was to Remus wasn’t a temporary thing, it wasn’t a _thing_ at all. It was life. In all the meanings possible. Them together had become a way of living. It was an oxygen source. It was a never ending cycle of _them_. Only not never ending. What lives, also dies. What is, will be was. Remus would just be one of Sirius’ memories soon, and Sirius would be the same in Remus’ mind. Just something that had been. He closed his eyes at this, Mrs. Potter’s words playing in his mind,

_The past can be a tempting thing, Remus._

And his own words, asking about the two brothers in the tale,

_He’d have the memories at least. He’d remember the happiness. That’s worth the risk?_

He leaned off his hands, sitting back on his heels. He tilted his chin up towards the sky, chest heaving. It was a clear night and the moon, full and round, glared down on him. That had been so easy to say while he still had the happiness still in his grasp. When he had Sirius waiting for him.

But that had never been true, had it? Really, he’d always been the one waiting for Sirius. He probably always would be the one waiting for Sirius. Prince or king. Unmarried or married.

Remus pressed his hands to his eyes, wiping angrily. He could remember the happiness, all right. Each smile was searing itself against the front of his mind at this very moment, each touch lingering, ghost-like over his skin and fingertips. But _this_. This would be remembered most of all. The pain, right over his heart, that definitely wasn’t ghost-like anymore. He wanted more than anything for it not to overpower the good parts. The smiles, the kisses, the embraces, the laughter… But they were tainted. Remembering them was to remember life, and, now that it was over, to remember pain. And the worst part was that, if Remus could go back, he wasn’t sure he’d change anything at all.

He felt Sirius’ presence before he heard him. His sudden halt from running sprayed Remus’ back with the coarse sand. He hoped for a moment that it might be one of the servants, sent to fetch him, yell at him, sack him. But then there was the crunch of the beach against boots and hands around his wrists and Sirius was falling to his knees in front of him, thumbs digging into his pulse point.

“Remus.” He didn’t sound out of breath at all, he didn’t even look it. Only his eyes looked slightly out of place. They were wide and frantic, “Remus-”

Remus just closed his eyes, turning his head downwards. He couldn’t. Not with Sirius this close. Not now.

“No, _no_ , you _look_ at me.” Sirius talked through his teeth, jaw clenched, like he was trying not to cry, “Please. Please, look at me right now-”

“Is that an order, your highness?” Remus did.

He wished he hadn’t.

Sirius’ face broke, “Of course it isn’t. Of _course_ not- _Stop_ , Re-” His voice cracked, his palms made their way to Remus’ cheeks.

Remus’ heart beat against his ribs, “You. _You sto_ -“

“Remus-“

“ _No_.” Remus pushed his hands away, falling back on his heels before scrambling into a standing position, “I can’t- I can’t _believe_ -“ He wasn’t sure where the anger had come from. Maybe Sirius’ tears, maybe Sirius’ presence, maybe it was all setting in. This was it. This was it. He pushed a hand through his hair, swiped angrily at his wet cheeks, “God, is this what you meant? That night you were crying.”

Sirius hands had fallen hopelessly on his knees, palms up as if they didn’t know what to do now that they were empty. His lips were parted, cheeks tear streaked, “Wh.. I-“

“You _knew_ then, didn’t you? That’s why you were so upset.” Remus choked, pressing a hand briefly to his mouth. He felt like he would never breathe again, “Is this what you meant? By ‘don’t leave’?” He was almost shouting now and thanked god for the heavy night air around them.

Sirius’ eyebrows raised in realization, a tear dripped off his jaw. His voice was thick, “No. God, _no_ , that isn’t what I-“

Remus spat the words at him, barely able to get them out, “‘Don’t leave, Remus. I have to get married but please stay around for me to _fuck_ from time to time-’”

“Don’t say that. Don’t say that, you know that isn’t true. Remus, you _fucking_ know that isn’t true-”

“What am I suppose to say?” Remus shook his head, spreading his hands, “What am I suppose to do?”  
“Just- Please,” Sirius’ eyes were pleading, hands gripping his knees, “Please, it wasn’t suppose to be this way, I was going to tell you, I needed more time-“

“How, then?” Remus’ throat felt raw. His chest felt raw, “How, then, Sirius? How did you think this would end?”

“I-“ Sirius didn’t seem to know how to finish his sentence. The words hung there, in the summer air, awful and necessary. Finally, he shook his head, hands slipping from his knees and into the sand, head bowed, “I don’t know… I didn’t think about it, I just wanted…”

Remus slipped too, knees falling to the ground in front of Sirius. He was too tired, “How…” He questioned. Sirius looked up at how close Remus’ voice suddenly was, how soft. His eyes were a cloudy grey, sad and shining. Remus thought he was more likely to drown in them than the lake, “It was _all_ I thought about.”

Sirius let out a breath, “Remus…”

And Remus let his eyes drop away from Sirius’, down to his lips, because he knew what was coming. And he had to see it. Just once. If it was the last thing he ever heard from Sirius, and he knew it should be, he needed it to be this,

Sirius’ lips shook around the words, but his voice was so strong, “I love you.”

And Remus broke. Tears sprung and they fell, creating dark dots in the sand. He closed his eyes against it, against it all.

“Re…” Sirius’ voice was a rasp, more tears than sound, “Re, I love you.” He let out a sob at the silence, “Say it back. Please, say it back. I love you.” It was a vow and it was a prompt.

“You can’t.” The words were barely there. Remus breathed in and the tears took over for a moment, making it impossible to breathe out, “I can’t.”

“No. No-“ Sirius was leaning forward then, hands holding Remus’ face, stroking his cheeks, gripping his hair, “You can. Yes, you can. We have time.” He sounded out of breath, “Can’t you see that? We have _time_. Please… You can. We can.”

Remus leaned into Sirius’ palm, his tears trailing down Sirius’ wrists. He shook his head, but not hard enough to make Sirius let go, “How?” He breathed in and it was like he was breathing through mud, “I don’t… Didn’t you feel it?”

Sirius wiped away Remus’ tears as fast as they came, shushing him softly, “Feel what? Feel what?”

Remus focused on Sirius’ fingers. The weight of them, the thickness, how long or short his nails were. How his thumb felt across his cheek. Then his palms, the left smooth with lack of work, the right calloused from weapon-play. If there was a last thing he could feel, it would be this. “What goodbye would feel like, Sirius. I felt goodbye.”

“No, you _didn’t_ feel goodbye, this isn’t- we aren’t-“

Remus cut off Sirius’ please, covering his hands with his own, “I’ve been left my entire life. My parents left me at an orphanage, and then the orphanage left me in this town.” He took a breath, thumbs involuntarily stroking over Sirius’ hands, “I’ve been left… but I’ve never had goodbye. I’ve never been able to say… And it’s been painful every time but I’ve always been _glad_.” Sirius was desperately trying to stop his tears despite the fact that he could barely see through his own, “A goodbye would be worse. It would be worse to say goodbye to my parents, worse to say goodbye to my friends. They were _good_. _How_ do you say goodbye to good things?”

Sirius was shaking his head, and his shoulders shook too. He was unable to speak but he dropped his forehead against Remus’ and the message was clear, _don’tdon’tdon’t._

Remus’ voice was going, cracking, fading, but he pressed on, “You’re good. You are so good, Sirius… And I knew I’d have to say goodbye to you, didn’t I? But I… I took the risk because…” Remus closed his eyes. He couldn’t say it. It would be cruel to say it now. He pushed his hands through Sirius’ hair, over his cheeks, his neck, memorizing one last time, “You’re the best thing that I’ve ever had to say goodbye to.”

“Remus…” It was a beg.

He shook his head, “It’s difficult enough to do it once,” his breath hitched, “please don’t ask me to do it again.”


	11. part xi

The sky brightened, the sky darkened, but Sirius never truly felt awake. Time slipped away in different shades, yielding days, then weeks. It was like he had become addicted to a narcotic for the sole purpose of it being ripped away, banned from his veins. And he needed it. God, did he need it. He needed Remus. He couldn’t remember living without Remus—had it really been his entire life? Had he really only met him a few months ago?

Was he really gone?

Nearly every day since Remus had walked away from him at the beach, Sirius went down to the kitchens everyday, peering longingly from behind corners, watching him work. He was not the flushed, smiling picture Sirius had seen the day he found out about the wedding. There was no laughter filtering through the sounds of the crackling fire, in fact, the warm lighting of the flames didn’t match anything about his demeanor at all. His face was shadowed, skin pale despite the heat. His fingers worked as on autopilot, with none of the passion Sirius had so often seen there. Briefly, Sirius pictured walking forward, right in front of Mrs. Potter and everyone, and taking Remus by the waist. He pictured kissing the sun right back into his skin. He could feel himself doing it. He could _feel_ Remus’ laugh against his skin, his hands on his neck, fingers warm from the fire.

_Sneaking up on me again, Black?_

Unable to watch anymore, he stumbled his way to the lake. He fell into what he imagined to be the imprints of Remus’ knees, the position of grief he had found him in that night. He put his fingers into the sand, letting the grit of it cut under his nails, and looked out over the water. It was perfectly placid. There was no wind, no darting fish making ripples. Completely calm.  
Sirius didn’t want to feel relief in how miserable Remus looked. He never wanted Remus to look miserable. But, still, it was a comfort, knowing he was not the only one who couldn’t breathe. In thinking this, he couldn’t decide if it was strange or to be expected that here, on the shore, he could breathe the easiest. It was the source of heartbreak. It was also the last place Remus had held him. Bittersweet. Wasn’t that what their relationship had always been? Right now it felt more bitter.

“Sirius.”

Sirius’ body showed no other sign of surprise other than perhaps his eyes becoming a bit more focused. He hadn’t heard Regulus approach, he’d barely even heard him call his name. Regulus’ sword clinked at his hip as he sat down, perfectly polished boots looking odd with the sand on them. He grabbed a handful of it, watching it slip through his fingers,

“Thought I’d find you out here.”

Sirius didn’t blink, just stared. He felt like his body was unresponsive, even to his own brain telling him to look at Regulus, to get off the stinging sandy shards, to breathe a little deeper, “Did you?”

“Well, you’ve invited me enough times.”

“Well, you’ve never accepted.”

Regulus let out a little huff that might have been a laugh, “Fair enough. Anyhow, it’s also where you use to go after mother-“

“I remember.” Sirius said a little harder, ending the conversation.

“Yes.” Regulus said after a few moments, softly, “Yes, I know you do.” Then a little more strong, “I only meant that you come out here to hide from things.”

This time Sirius did round on him, narrowing his eyes, “And you come out here to what? Find me? _Save_ me?”

Regulus met his gaze, “They were going to kill you.”

“ _Death_ is not the worst fate.” Sirius growled.

“It is for the people you leave behind.” Regulus’ mouth formed around the words like he hadn’t meant for them to come so easily.

Sirius blinked at that, his mind, for a moment, awakening again. Looking at his little brother, he suddenly saw a much younger version of Regulus: under the protection of no one but Sirius, keeping close at parties, at dinner. Running out to the lake after him despite Sirius’ protests and pressing cool water to his stinging cheeks. His chest suddenly ached so painfully that he had to arch forward, fold in on himself, as if keeping his ribcage from pressing in on him too tightly.

“Reg…“

Regulus’ cool mask was suddenly gone, perhaps broken at the nickname. His eyebrows uncharacteristically drew together, dark eyes lightening with worry, “No, you have to _listen_ to me, Sirius. I’m not so little anymore, I know what I’m doing. If they killed you, do you really think they would have let me ascend into power? No. The answer is _no_. You’re right about them, and even mother knows it deep down.” He shook his head, “So, if it makes you feel better… Just… think of it like I was saving the kingdom. Not you. But, even then…” He trailed off, seeming to rally his nerve. His voice came out almost a whisper, “Even then, you must know it was. For you, I mean.”

Sirius looked at him, feeling more beaten to a pulp by Regulus’ words than he ever had by his mother’s fist. What had he even done for Regulus, really, to deserve everything that, as he now saw, Regulus was trying to do for him? Let him follow him around? Take all of the rotten attention of their mother when, really, it had only been set on him anyway? He’d done nothing. He should say thank you. He should say anything, really. Regulus just looked back at him, eyes calm and patient, but not exactly waiting, not for words he knew might not come. The sun was low in the sky now and Sirius finally looked away, squinting into it, letting it create a throbbing behind his eyes, “I’m… realizing that.”

It was the best he could do.

It wasn’t.

Regulus sighed, very lightly, “I just…” The soft sound came again, “I hope you’ll be happy, Sirius.”

Sirius made a noise this time, only not so soft, “Not likely.”

“No,” Sirius turned back to his brother at the firm hand on his shoulder. His eyes were still calm, but blazing, “No, you could be. Right?” Sirius didn’t understand the question, “You know that. You _could_ be.”

“What makes you think that?” Sirius snapped. Regulus was getting dangerously close to the truth: Sirius could be happy. Could _have_ been happy. He’d had his chance.

“What makes you think otherwise?” Regulus said back, maddeningly calm.

“Because I was born into _this life_ -”

“And _he_ was born into _his_.” Sirius’ blood ran cold. Regulus pressed on, insistent, “Yet, here you both are.”

Sirius swallowed. He knew how his face must look bur Regulus was making no moves to reassure him. His eyes were as steady as ever. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat and he tried to clear it away, “How-“ He tried again, “How did…”

“I knew you had someone. You already knew that.” Regulus let his hand drop, the band around his finger with the small _RB_ flashing delicately, “Then I saw your ring on his hand at dinner, I… I figured it was him you ran after when the brought up the wedding-”

“God…” Sirius pressed his hands to his face but Regulus pulled them away, gripping his wrists.

“Sirius, it isn’t a problem. Not to me-“

“How can you say that?” Sirius looked at him, eyes stinging painfully, “It’s nothing _but_ a problem. God, it’s one thing to fall in love with a girl you can’t have because at least that’s normal, but I-“ His voice broke, “I had to go and…” Sirius closed his eyes, voice trailing off. He clenched his teeth, dipping his head.

“How can _you_ say _that_? Jesus, _look_ at me.” Sirius found his brother’s eyes again only, this time, he didn’t look so young. He looked older, and pained. Regulus wet his lips before speaking, starting a few different times, desperate for Sirius to understand, “Do you… Do you know that you’re the only person I care about? You’re it. The only _fucking_ person. I don’t really know why right now. We haven’t exactly been brotherly. But you are. And I’ve seen you so unhappy for so long until- this summer, you- you weren’t. I mean- you were more fucking snide than ever but you were grinning and I hadn’t… exactly realized how much I… missed that.” His words came slower, like he was fighting his way through them, coming to an understanding as he spoke.

Sirius fingers closed around Regulus’ wrist as well, gripping tight. Regulus’ face crumbled, just a little,

“I’m only trying to say that… how can love, happiness be abnormal? No matter _who_ it’s with, it’s happiness and you have to fucking _chase it_. It doesn’t come around that often, not for real.” He shook his head, “Sirius, anyone who knows you knows you don’t want this life. You’ve _never_ wanted this life. You hate everything about it all the way down to sitting up straight at dinner, so…” Regulus shook his head, smiling a little although his voice was thick. Sirius thought he hadn’t seen his brother smile in too, too long, “So, _fuck_ birth. Fuck blood. Chase the happiness.”

“Reg..” Sirius voice was thick too, a rasp, “He’s… He’s all I want.”

“Then _do it_. For me.” Regulus swallowed, “Do it for you. Do it for me.”

Regulus would give him every reason in the book, as long as Sirius took one and ran with it. He prayed that he would.

~

Remus splayed his fingers over the soft leather in the early morning darkness of his room. He was kneeled on the splintering floor by his old trunk, holding Sirius’ slippers to his chest, the ring between his fingertips. The soft _SB_ flashed at him, like a taunt. He could almost hate the small inanimate object. For being there, for reminding him so painfully of what he no longer had. Almost. If only he didn’t love it so much. He shifted, sitting back with his knees to his chest, and slipped the soft shoes on. He closed his eyes.

He hated how thankful he was for these small things. They were like direct links to his memory, triggers, key words that jumpstarted feelings and emotions and longing all at once. He felt the slippers and he felt their first kiss, the healing salve on his fingertips, Sirius’ warm hands on his ankles. When he ran his fingers over the ring, entirely different things were renewed. Sirius’ body against his own, them laughing softly until the early morning, Sirius’ tears against his skin, the bread basket slipping through his fingers. The beginning and end of a relationship. Remus dropped the ring, and went back to stroking the tops of the slippers over his feet. He found he preferred beginnings. He had to get up. He had to make the bread, the eggs. Sirius’ eggs. Who knew cooking, something he’d always loved, could be so cruel?

There was a knock at his door, making him jump.

“Remus?”

James’ voice came muffled through the thin wood.

“Just a minute!” He knew his voice came out too loud, a little strained, as he scrambled to shut the slippers and ring back in his trunk, not bothering to cover them with books this time. It was only James but these things felt they belonged to him, and to his eyes only, “Yeah, come in.”

James opened the door, poking his head in first and offering a rather sad smile, “Hello.” He sing-songed the word a little, definitely trying to deduce Remus’ mental state, and maybe defuse it, “Alright?”

Remus swiped his apron from the hook by his dresser, tying it behind his back, “Yeah, alright. You?”

James hummed, “Yeah, I’m good. I’m- I’m great. Happy Saturday! Good. Nice, lovely, Saturday.” James nodded all the while, swinging back and forth on his heels, and giving Remus an exaggerated smile.

Remus sighed, “I’m _fine_ , James.”

“Me too! That’s so…” He rubbed the back of his neck, “So coincidental.. Not that that… matters. Okay. I’m just gonna…”

“Stop?” Remus supplied.

“Precisely. Exactly. Yes. Definitely.”

“James.”

James sighed, smile dropping. He held his hands up in surrender, “I’m sorry, I’m nervous!”

Remus raised an eyebrow, “Nervous?”

James sighed, falling onto Remus’ bed, “Yes. God, I feel like I’m carrying fucking _lead_ in my pocket. Sirius asked me to- God, do I look like I’m sweating?” He took out a slip of neatly folded parchment from his pocket, fiddling with it, “Jesus, Sirius is right, I never should be in the King’s Guard.”

Remus’ heart, at the first sight of the slip of paper, had jumped to his throat, “James, what is-“

James blew the hair off his forehead, looking bewilderedly at the ceiling, “I mean, honestly, I think I’d fucking pass out-“

“Jesus fucking Christ, _give_ me that.” He all but ripped the note from James’ hands, unfolding it, already holding his breath.

_The stables. Monday. Midnight._

He flipped it over and gripped the bed post with the amount of relief filling his chest.

_Who said anything about goodbye?_

~

Sirius had been restless the entire day. He knew Remus had work, but ever since the second James had told him Remus’ response to the note, he’d thought maybe Remus would ditch. For him, for this. Just one day. He knew he wouldn’t. He sort of loved him for it, even if it made him crazy.

He felt like he had watched the sky darken shade by shade, eyes shifting between the sky and the bookshelf. He’d taken dinner in his room but he had left his tray untouched, too consumed, too relieved.

He was going to say sorry first. He was going to apologize for not telling him, for letting him leave in the first place. He had never said it, after all. Not really. Then he was going to tell him he loved him. Because he did, so, so much. Then he was going to hold him. _Then_ , he would tell him their plan.

When Remus walked through the bookcase, Sirius forgot all of this.

He was kissing Remus before he took another breath. His hands pulled him into the room and were under his shirt in a second, desperately taking in his warm skin. Remus was just as eager, his fingers threading through Sirius’ hair and pulling, deepening the kiss. Sirius’ palms made their way to Remus’ arse and he lifted, guiding Remus’ legs around his waist and pressing him against the bedpost for more leverage. They kissed and kissed, taking long inhales of oxygen through their nose for as long as they could, until even that proved too little. They broke apart, breathing heavily into each other, lips brushing with each breath.

“Hello.” Sirius mumbled, dragging his lips over Remus’ skin to press a sloppy kiss to Remus’ jaw.

He felt Remus’ cheek dimple when he smiled, and he nudged the soft indent with his nose, “Hello…”

“I have,” Sirius pressed another kiss, “So many things to say to you.” And another, “I just can’t quite remember what, right now.”

Remus guides their mouths back together, hands on Sirius’ cheeks, “I should probably make you say them.” He let his head fall back against the post, letting a breathy moan out as Sirius started trailing his jaw and neck with his tongue, “But I- _fuck_ -I don’t feel like fucking talking, I-“ Remus let out a breath, blinking his eyes open and hand coming to thread through Sirius’ hair at the back of his head. He tried to glance downward towards Sirius, startled by his sudden slowing of movement, of kisses. What had been nearly biting a moment ago was now less frequent and soft, soft presses. He could feel Sirius’ forehead against his shoulder and the heaving of his chest, “Hey..” He slid his hand to Sirius’ cheek, trying to coax him into looking at him, “Hey, what happened down there? Love-“

“‘m fine.” His voice was muffled by Remus’ skin, but he did in fact, sound find, “‘m just… I thought…” He sighed, breath warming Remus’ shoulder, and pressed his nose right to Remus’ neck, inhaling shakily, “Just hopelessly happy to be… here again.”

Remus’ heart contracted rather painfully at that, and he was suddenly very aware that Sirius was holding him, against him, speaking to him. The thought made him breathe shakily too. He dipped his head down, nosing against Sirius’ cheek and temple until he was able to press their cheeks together, faces hidden in each other’s necks. They stayed there, hugging, re-memorizing each other, until Sirius pressed Remus more closely to him, then laid him softly down on the bed. He smiled a little when he tried to get up and Remus didn’t let go.

“Was just gonna budge you up. Can’t have our feet dangling off.”

“We can if it means I can still feel you.”

Sirius laughed and, in one quick motion, ducked from within Remus’ arms and grabbed his hips, throwing him playfully against the pillows and launching himself after him, sealing the attack with a hard, long, kiss.

He laid against him, forearms only supporting a bit of his weight, “How’s that?”

Remus hummed and then turned Sirius onto his side, situating himself until they were face to face, sharing a pillow. He tangled their still shoed feet together and laced their fingers between them, “Good.”

Sirius was content to lay that way forever, with Remus’ thumb stroking his knuckles and his eyes looking softly at him, his brows slightly furrowed.

Sirius released one of his hands to smooth it, “You’re thinking awfully hard.”

Remus smiled a little, “You did delivery me a note that suggested not too subtly a forbidden get away.” Sirius rolled his eyes a little and looped his arms around Remus’ waist, pulling their chests almost together, “But…” Sirius nudged their noses together as way of telling him to go on. Remus wet his lips before continuing, “What did happen? To make you do this. Send the note, what… what changed?”

For a few moments, Sirius did nothing more than take a rather large breath, “I… Well, first, nothing _changed_. Re, I never _didn’t_ want to be with you.” He hesitated, “You… You know that, right?”

Remus nodded mutely, pressing a kiss to Sirius’ fingers.

“I just realized-“ Sirius laughed a little, more to himself than anyone, “I was _helped_ to realize that I… Well, I don’t have to be unhappy, do I? I can be the happiest person in the entire world if I want.” He reached out, palm to Remus’ jaw, thumb trailing over the high of his cheekbone, “I just have to go for it.”

Remus felt the worry in his chest ease at this, but only a little. The doubt was still there, gnawing at his chest. He leaned into Sirius’ palm, biting his lip.

Sirius turned his head a little, “That… That wasn’t what you wanted to hear-“

“No.” Remus said quickly, “No, that was… perfect. I never thought I’d hear that.”

Sirius pulled Remus towards him more insistently, “Then what? Anything, Re. I’ll give you… get you, help you with anything. You know that-”

“What if I don’t make you happy.” Remus whispered it, looking down, focusing his eyes on Sirius’ chest, the fine silk of his shirt, “What if I’m…”

“No.” It was all Sirius said, simply and hard. He shook his head again, raising Remus’ eyes to his own, “No. That-“ He kept shaking his head, like Remus had just said the most outrageous thing in the world, “It isn’t even possible. Not to me. Not now, not ever.”

“Sirius-“  
“Now, I’m not saying we’re always going to get along. I’m a prick and you like to call me out on it which does get annoying sometimes.” They both let out slightly watery laughs and Sirius pressed a quick kiss to Remus’ mouth, “But listen to me. Re… God, this isn’t even about what I’m leaving behind. It isn’t even that I’m happier because I’m choosing a life with you over my life here. Yes, it is better. By _mountains_ it is better, but… I could have the most glorious life in the world,” His voice had lowered, and Remus suddenly felt as though the world had stopped to listen to Sirius, “and I’d still choose you.” Sirius passed his fingers through the fringe that curled thickly over Remus’ forehead, “Do you know why?”

Remus could do nothing but stare mutely. He didn’t. He felt frozen, in a trance, like his chest was about to burst. Because he knew what was coming. He knew what was coming and he would sooner die than not respond this time. He shook his head.

And Sirius smiled, “Well. Then I do have one more thing to say, don’t I?” Then his face grew more serious, “And I… I rather hope you do too.”

“I do.” Remus breathed.

He heard the way Sirius’ breath hitch, and suddenly Sirius was rolling on top of him, bracketing him in, and Remus could feel nothing but his warmth.

This time Remus’ eyes stayed firmly locked with Sirius’. He didn’t want to see him say it. He wanted to see him feel it. And they were blue, and grey, and worried, and happy, and so chock full of the unsaid words that Remus could almost see it spill over onto the rest of his face, into the set of his mouth and the grip of his palms.

“I love you.” Sirius just breathed it, voice trembling under its weight, “Remus…”

“I love you.” Remus said it too softly, then again too loudly, “I love you.” Suddenly he felt like he had so many to make up for, so much to to make up for, and he couldn’t stop saying it. He held Sirius’ neck, his cheeks, his shoulders, and said it again, and again, “I love you.”

And then they were kissing and laughing into each other’s mouths, or maybe crying, and Remus said it some more, this time mixed it with Sirius’. And the words held other words; _I believe you. I trust you. You’re enough. You’re everything._

And soon, they didn’t even have to say it to know it was there.

“Sirius…” Remus said into his neck, kissing the taught skin there, the pulse point. _I love you._

And Sirius just laughed, a sound of pure relief. And suddenly Remus was being held so tightly he couldn’t even kiss anymore, just laugh too.  
“Oh, god, I have to tell you-“ Sirius gasped, laughing and kissing Remus again, cheeks hot and flushed.

“‘bout?”

“Our new _life.” I love you._

A sort of thrill went up Remus’ spine at the word _our. I love you._

Sirius hooked their ankles together. His eyes were bright and excited, palms warm against Remus’ cheeks, “Listen. I have a cousin. In France, her name is Andromeda. She and her husband, they’re like us, they— well, let’s just say my family didn’t approve of their match. Of him. So, she lives in France now, in a comfortable home. She _escaped_. We can too, we can stay with them until we get our feet under us somehow. I have money of my own saved, not too much but-“

“I do too.” Remus cut in, then, a little shyly, “ _Really_ not too much but…”

Sirius kissed him, again, and again, before he gasped, trying to talk and breathe and kiss at the same time, “Remus. Re, the people there, they’re… more open.” He shrugged one shoulder, “Some of them, at least. I… God, ‘m out of breath.” He laughed.

Remus laughed a little too, soothing his hands through his hair, content to just watch the way Sirius’ eyes were lit up, “The point is, we can be together. Maybe not always in the open, but-“

And this time, Remus was the one to kiss him, lips hard and needing, neck craning off the sheets. He panted into his mouth, hands gripping his hair,

“Now you listen.” He said, “I could spend my life only kissing you behind closed doors. Just so long as you are there to kiss.”

And they held each other, shedding clothes, pressing close, and knowing that a new life, their life, was only a few days away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Almost at the last chapter! The next chapter won't be up for about two weeks, because my best friend is visiting and I haven't seen her for a year. I'll try and work on it if I can but I'm not sure. Thank you all for reading sorry for the delay!
> 
> Things are really heating up now in this castle. I decided we all needed some cute fluff and happiness after... last time. hehe. Hope you enjoyed!!!


	12. part xii

Remus woke in the early morning darkness out of habit, but he had no intention of going to work today. He peaked over his shoulder, drawing the sheets closer to his bare skin, and saw the very beginnings of the sun behind the mountains. The light from it was still cool, but in a way that suggested the day’s heat. He looked back to where he had been previously gazing, at Sirius’ face, and saw the light reflected there as well. He let himself fall deeper into the warm mattress and willed the sun to slow down, just for this moment. The morning was like blue water, falling over Sirius’ features with an almost glow. Remus settled into stare at it, mind reeling faster and faster as his body woke up. He stretched his fingers, his ribs, and questions started punching themselves through his mind, different details that needed to be attended to— details that he had no means to attend to with. Money, transport, cover. Not to mention speed. People would only be oblivious to Sirius’ absence for so long. Security, was another thing. Remus picked at a stray thread on the sheets. He had a feeling they’d be missing that one for quite a while.

Sirius mumbled in his sleep, pink tongue coming to wet his lips. His eyebrows twitched downwards, frowning, and he let out a soft, troubled sound, like he was reading Remus’ thoughts. Remus reached forward almost automatically, pushing his fingers through Sirius’ dark strands, thumb coming to rest over the high of his cheekbones. Sirius’ brow smoothed, and he turned his head in his sleep, lips brushing Remus’ palm momentarily before he let out another deep, sleep-filled sigh.

All the questions faded a little at that, that little unconscious gesture. A gesture that let him know there was at least one thing they would never be missing. Happiness. They’d never lack being happy, not when they had each other.

He looked for a few moments more, and then decided it would be quite okay if time were to speed up now, possibly to tomorrow. Sirius’ room, nice as it was, suddenly felt much too close to all that it stood for: power, royalty, and, most prominently in Remus’ mind, separation. Heart break. The stones of these walls, stones that had felt like their only sanctuary for a time, were more like a prison. Then again, anything is a prison of you have something else to look forward to. A room, a conversation, an hour. Time might have been Remus’ most pressing prison of all. How much of it was left, how much of it was wasted, how much would there be to come.

When he was with Sirius, time felt all it could be at once: frozen, too fast. It felt worthwhile and so un-prison like that the thought of a lifetime spent that way made waiting so completely restricting that he thought his lungs might collapse.

He leaned forward, wanting to ease the feeling, wanting to taste that freedom from thought again, and pressed his lips to Sirius’ sleeping ones. They took only a moment and a slightly startled noise before they responded.

Sirius hummed into the kiss, and only got through half of a muffled “good morning” before Remus was kissing him harder, throwing a leg over his hips and settling against them. Sirius’ fingertips pressed into the muscles of his back, splaying widely to avoid the prominent wing-bones there. He pulled the parts of the blanket that had gotten caught between their bodies away, laughing a little when Remus didn’t bother to lift his hips to assist.

Remus breathed deeply in his nose and pressed their lips together with almost a bruising pressure, surrounding himself in Sirius. His fingers held Sirius’ cheeks and temples, keeping him steady and dominating the kiss, ending with a soft nip against Sirius’ bottom lip, keeping it locked between his own before letting go and blinking down at him.

Sirius’ eyes were still closed, lips parted and slowly forming into a smile. When he opened them they were shining brightly, but still slightly sleepy. It made for an endearing combination. He hooked his ankles atop of Remus’, cementing them together, and brought his hand up to cup Remus’ neck. His thumb brushed the point just below Remus’ ear and Remus’ brows knit in confusion when the gesture made him wince.

Sirius hummed, grin spreading, “Sorry. Might have gotten a bit carried away last night.” He arched his head up to press a kiss to the sore love bite. Remus shivered when he felt him nip gently at his ear next, lips brushing his skin and voice low, “But purple _is_ a good color on you-“

“Shh.” Remus laughed, turning his face down to shut Sirius up properly. Sirius was almost laughing too hard to kiss back, but they settled into it again anyway, less harshly this time.

“I like you like this.” Remus said against Sirius’ mouth, “In this light.”

Sirius just kissed him again, hands roaming down his spine, letting the blankets slip away from his back.

“I’m going to wake you up every morning,” His mouth dropped to Sirius’ jaw, “at this exact time,” He kissed the spot just below Sirius’ ear, “just so I can see you in it.” Sirius’ pulse quickened against his lips as he sucked and kissed the sensitive skin, drawing a soft sound from Sirius.

“I think I might just let you.” Sirius’ breath hitched at the end of his sentence, fingers curling into Remus’ hair.

Remus grinned, allowing himself to be pulled back into a kiss. There lips had only brushed before they were drawn apart by loud muffled talking from directly behind Sirius’ doors, making them both whip towards the sound. Remus only caught a few words here and there, but the shrill voice they came in was enough to send his heart pounding.

He looked back to Sirius, eyes wide, “Sirius-“

“I need to see my son, this moment!” The Queen’s voice was muffled by the carefully carved wood but close, directly outside, right _there._

He should hide. He should leave. He needed to _move_. Sirius was sitting up suddenly, hand looped around Remus’ waist, keeping him close to him. Remus pressed his palms to Sirius’ chest, steadying himself. He could feel Sirius’ heart’s quick beats, but it felt like that was about the only thing moving fast. Everything was happening in slow motion. He saw Sirius glance towards the bathroom, but then there was a click on the door, the guards undoing the lock.

Sirius didn’t even have time to look at him before his hands were on his shoulders, pressing him down and the heavy quilt was thrown atop both of them, Remus covered completely. The doors opened. Remus had never gone so still in his life.

“Good, you’re awake.”

Sirius’ mother’s voice was muffled by the thick feathered quilt, mingled with the sound of Remus’ labored breathing, made more so by the fact that he was trying _not_ to breathe.

Sirius’ hands were still under the quilt and one was tightly wrapped around Remus’ wrist, almost like a warning in itself: _don’t move._

“I’m awake.” Sirius’ voice was closer, and had the edge to it that always appeared when he was talking with or about someone in his family. Remus thanked god for Sirius’ ability to sound so remarkably _calm_ in any situation. He hated when that false calm was directed at him, but he didn’t think they’d survive this without it.

“There has been a theft.” The Queen growled, “From the kingdom, from _me_! _The crown.”_

Sirius’ fingers tightened around his wrist, “Wh… The _crown_?”

“Didn’t you hear me?” The Queen snapped, “Never mind. Get up! All members of the castle are to report to the main hall for questioning.”

“Why the-“ Remus swore he could hear Sirius take a deep breath through his nose, “Why would I steal the crown? Why would-“

“Do as your told!”

“You know it’s them, don’t you? The Lestranges. Your sister-“

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Remus heard the sharp sound of shoes on stone as she came closer, “start on this again-“

 _Stop, Sirius. Stop. Let her leave._ Remus begged him silently. He twisted his wrist, until he could grab Sirius’. A warning. A plea. He didn’t seem to get the message.

“It’s right in front of your face! They’re _cruel_. You’re _blind_ -“

Sirius’ words choked off in a horrible way. A strangled gasp and a weak cough. Sirius’ hand yanked itself out of his and disappeared for a moment, before flattening down on the bed again, in the open air, just in front of Remus’ face. It was all he could see from his place beneath the quilt. The hand gripped the mattress, then the fingers splayed. The choking sound continued. Remus felt as if he were choking himself. His didn’t move. His fingertips were just out of the light, dying to reach out.

“ _Do_.” Remus almost jumped. She was right there, almost above him. His heart hammered and he knew what the sound was, “As you’re _told_.”

 _Don’t move don’t move don’t move_. His entire body trembled with the effort.

With the last word the sound stopped and Remus heard Sirius gasp, coughing. There were fast heels on the floor again, and Remus’ muscles ached with relief at the fact that they were receding this time.

“Oh,” He heard the door open, “And _do_ get whatever whore is in your bed _out_.”

The door slammed. Remus heard the muffled sound of a guard slipping the lock in place.

He threw the covers away, dismissing a soft tearing sound and a few stray feathers flying out where his fingers had been gripping it, and was on Sirius’ in seconds.

“Sirius. God-“ Sirius leaned forward, sounding like the air was going through his throat raggedly as he tried to steady his breathing. He coughed, hard and dry, gagging with it. Remus pressed a hand to his chest, “No, no, lean back. Lean back, love. You need to keep your lungs open.” Sirius did as he was told, but kept a firm hold on Remus’ shoulder, dragging him forward with him, “Sirius, you don’t want me against your chest right now, you need to- okay, okay.” Remus allowed himself to be pulled back onto Sirius’ lap, half selfishly. He needed the closeness too. He glanced backwards at the door, just to make sure it was still closed before pressing his hands to Sirius’ neck gently, inspecting.

His heart ached as he regarded Sirius. His eyes were open but looking at the ceiling as he drew in long, shuttering breaths, coughing here and there. His face looked paler than usual except for his cheeks which were bright with the blood that had sprung all at once back to the surface. And his neck… Remus pressed his thumb gently over the small love bite below his ear, heart aching at how similar but different it looked compared to the quickly forming rings of purple that lined his windpipe and adam’s apple.

“God… God, why did she…” Remus shook his head, carding his hands through Sirius’ hair, “Can you breathe alright? Can you talk to me?” _Please_ Remus thought.

Sirius just nodded for a moment, slowly, but then he closed his eyes and wetness streaked down his cheek, betraying the nod.

Remus shushed him softly, fingers soft on his cheeks, pressing light kisses to his mouth, restricting no air, and to his cheeks, “You’re okay now. You’re okay now.”

“No, I know.” They both winced at Sirius’ voice. It was a rasp, breaking, made worse by the tears, “I know. Fuck, sorry, I’m just- it-“ his breath hitched, “It just startled me.”

“Don’t apologize.” He pressed another kiss to his skin, this time directly over a strip of bruise, “Don’t apologize for this, okay? Never… None of this is ever your fault.”

“But it is.” Sirius’ eyes were sad, pleading, “She does this because…because I- I do something and- God, and she almost found you. If something had happened to you… If something had- it would have been my-“

“ _No._ ” Remus’ hands were shaking again, “No, Sirius, get that _out_ of your _head_. Look at me.” Remus dropped his voice as it wavered, “Look at me-“

But suddenly Sirius’ eyes were widening and he was sitting up, “You have to go.”

Remus blinked taken aback, “What… What?”

“The crown- The crown was stollen.” Sirius put his hands on Remus’ shoulders, guiding him off the bed, “Jesus, you-“ He coughed as he stood, “You have to _go_ , Remus-“

“Why? Why do I have to go?” His voice was momentarily muffled as Sirius all but yanked a shirt over his head. He shoved his hands through the sleeves and grabbed onto Sirius’ newly put on shirt, “I have to take care of _you_ , you’re mother just fucking-“ Remus caught the pants Sirius threw at him.

“No. _No_.” Sirius straightened from fastening his own pants, grabbing Remus’ hand and guiding him towards the bookshelf, “Didn’t you hear what she said?”

Remus stopped them in front of the bookshelf, putting his hands on Sirius chest, “Sirius-“

Sirius turned, palms cupping Remus’ cheeks. His eyes were wide and nervous, the grey dark, “They’re rounding up everyone in the castle. For questioning.” Remus’ lips parted as he started to understand. Sirius’ thumbs stroked softly over his cheeks, not matching his frantic tone, “That means the servants too, Re, if they don’t find you in your room when they come-“

“Okay.” Remus felt like he was only breathing half the air that he had been before, “Okay.”

“Go.” Sirius pressed a long kiss to his mouth before yanking the bookshelf open, “ I’ll find you. Wherever you are, I’ll find you. We’ll leave and never look back, okay?” Remus nods, desperately holding onto him. Sirius looked pained but took Remus’ hands away from his shirt, kisses his knuckles, and releases them, “ _Go_.”

Remus leaned on his toes for one more kiss, and disappeared into the dark tunnel.

The passage had never felt so long or so small as it did right then. He didn’t have enough room to run without banging his head painfully on the ceiling with every shift of weight. So he half walked, half ran, quickly, tripping over his feet until he burst into the hallway that the passage connected to.

He halted momentarily, fear-stricken. He hadn’t even bothered to listen for footsteps. But he was alone, the halls were quiet and deserted. The only sound he could hear in this part of the castle was the pounding of his own heart.

The downstairs was a different scene. He saw his friends, servants of both high and low status, being herded like sheep down the stairs of the sleeping quarters. He looked for James, but didn’t see him. Maybe he had already been lead out. He made eye contact with Lily, a gaze she returned only with a fearful look.

He tried to walk calmly to his room, heart beating too hard for normal breaths, so much so that it almost hurt to try. Each creak of the old staircase caused his heart to jumpstart all over again. He rounded the corner at the top of the staircase and his stomach kept to his throat. His door was ajar. He was too late.

He pushed it open, hoping in vain to find it empty still, but froze at the sight within.

“Ah. Lupin.” His name was said like it was dirt, a curse, “So nice of you to finally join us.”

Remus unconsciously backed up, only to feel the slight wind of his door being slammed shut behind him. It rattled the frail room. He imagined the splinters in the walls peeling off further.

There were four guards in his room. One, threateningly behind him, slamming the door, trapping him inside. He didn’t know his name. Two more, standing on either side of Remus’ trunk which had been moved from the end of his bed. He didn’t know them either. And a fourth. This one he knew. Severus Snape was sprawled on his bed, muddy boots dripping on the bare mattress.

He smirked at Remus, black, greasy hair falling in his eyes, “Now what on earth would you be doing at such an early hour as this? Out for a walk,” his eyes blazed, “around the castle?”

Remus opened his mouth to respond but Snape was already standing. He made his small room look even tinier. The bed and floorboards groaned beneath him, “Or, no. No, perhaps you fancied yourself something better?” His eyes hardened as he stepped forward, only just looming over Remus, “A crown, for instance?”

“No.” Remus could physically feel blood forcing itself through his veins despite his lack of breath, “No-“

“ _Don’t lie_.” Snape snarled, “It obviously isn’t the first time you fancied yourself a little… _treasure_.”

Remus shook his head. He didn’t understand what that could mean. Until recently he’d barely even been upstairs, much less had motive to take anything.

Snape flicked his fingers at the guard behind him and suddenly Remus was restrained, his arms held firmly to his sides, “Maybe we need to refresh your memory.”

He walked over to the trunk, kicking it open, and bent down to retrieve an object.

“These,” He turned, “look rather expensive for a someone like yourself.” Snape sneered, “And this… Well, unless your name is Sirius Black…” Remus thought he was going to be sick, “I don’t know what you could want with this. Unless it was practice for something bigger. Something _better_.”

Remus could do nothing but stare. In Snape’s hands were his two most prized possessions. The two things that kept him going, that reminded him that his happiness was real when he was alone.

Dangling from Snape’s right hand was Sirius’ slippers. And held softly in his left, was Sirius’ ring.

Remus wanted to scream. No sound would come. His limbs wouldn't move. Blood roared in his ears.

Through the fog he heard Snape’s voice.

“Take him upstairs. To the Queen.”

~

Sirius finds the castle halls unsurprisingly deserted. He knows everyone is in the main hall, waiting to be questioned. Or maybe it has already started. He yanked at the ties of his shirt that won’t seem to stay put, and knots them haphazardly. He could feel his heart pulsing in his neck, drawn, black and blue, to the surface of his skin by both his mother’s fingers and the panic in his chest. He couldn’t remember how long the passageway was, and only hoped Remus had made it there on time. If he wasn’t in his room when the guards arrived… Sirius didn’t even want to think about how that would look, especially this early.

He quickened his pace down the hallway that had never seemed so long. His hearing felt muted, but his own footsteps, his own breathing, was much too loud, like the entire world knew where he was going and where he had come from.

 _Remus would make it._ He had to tell himself this. _They would both make it._ They would both make it. Through tonight, out of this place, in the world.

The doors that lead to the staircase came into view looking strange without guards flanking them. He was footsteps away, heart already in his throat at what he might find on the other side-  
When a body suddenly slid in front of them, pressed back against the polished wood and grinning. Sirius choked on the air, halting just in time to keep from slamming into her. He straightens quickly, working to straighten his face into one of nothingness. The struggle only increases the pounding in his chest.

“Bellatrix.”

His cousin’s grin shifted into a pout. Her dark, ringleted hair curled tightly around her narrow face. She would have been beautiful, he thinks, but the temperament of her mind, wild and cruel, seemed to ooze through her skin like poisoned honey.

“Oh, don’t _try_ so hard, cousin. We both know you despise me.” She took a step forward, a challenge, “Why don’t you just let it show?”

Sirius didn’t move backwards, a challenge matched, “Shouldn’t you be in the hall for questioning, with the others?”

She pressed a hand to her chest, mocking surprise, hurt. Her full lips formed an ‘o’, but her lipstick was smudged around the corners, just a little, making the shape look torn and used, “Me? But why would _I_ steal the crown?” She hooked her fingers through Sirius’ knotted shirt, pulling him down and forward, their faces so close that he could see the flecks of dried makeup on her skin, “I’m about to marry into it.”

Sirius said nothing, too busy holding his breath. Everything in him was screaming at him to push her away, to find Remus, to run with him out of the hall if that’s what it took. Something in her tone, something, made his veins feel icy with dread. His lack of response only seemed to anger her more, and she let out a sound, deep in her throat, almost animalistic. When she spoke, however, her voice was light, a dangerous calm,

“You hate that, don’t you? You hate _me_.”

Sirius gridded his teeth, “I’ll do what I have to do for my country.” Words have never tasted so bitter.

Bellatrix stared at him, eyes focusing and un-focusing in an eerie way. The gaze made it felt like she was only partially seeing him, and that the other half of her vision was elsewhere, seeing something entirely different. Then she smiled, all teeth, “Your country.” The smile melted. The teeth stayed but the corners of her lips, smeared lipstick and all, turned down. She shoved him away and Sirius was forced to take a step back, “It’s never been _your_ country. It never will be your country! You don’t even _want it._ ”

“I’ll be king.” Sirius dug his nails into his palms, “That’s all there is.”

“No you won’t.” His cousin sneered, “Not _now._ ”

Suddenly—and Sirius hadn’t even seen her move—but, suddenly, Bellatrix was holding a knife. It was a small, short blade. Bone glinted at the handle, white and polished. But it a knife all the same. Sirius felt his hands raise on their own, like a barrier. He opened his mouth but Bellatrix beat him too it,

“You were never going to be king, don’t you _see_ that? You, with your—your _morals_. Your _ideals_ about equality and-“ She growled, “We aren’t meant to be equal to them. No, we are our own race. Pure, and high, and royal. You’re just in the _way_ -“

“How can you stand there and call yourself _pure_? Saying things like that?” Sirius bit back. He looked into his cousin’s black eyes, and the words came pouring out, “You’re right. I don’t want to be king. You _disgust me_. Marrying you is the worst news I’ve received in this lifetime.” He straightened his back, nails digging in harder to his palms, “But you’re clever, aren’t you? Or at least your mother is-“ Bellatrix sneered at him and he pushed on, “That’s what this theft is, isn’t it? A distraction. Get the servants out of the way, get my mother out of the way, get my guards out of the way… all so you can what? Kill me? Is that what you’re really going to do?”

Bellatrix grinned, “Oh, so _now_ he’s smart. Glad you’re catching on.”

She made a swooping jab with the knife and Sirius leapt easily aside, his back towards the door now, and Bellatrix where he had been standing. Blood pumped in his ears. He knew that if he wanted to live, he had to keep her talking, buy himself time.

“How do you expect to explain away the crown, then? Bits of royal metal don’t just walk away, you know.”

Bellatrix laughed, “Oh, that’s already taken care of. They’ve already caught the theft, or didn’t you hear?”

Sirius’ blood ran cold, but he refused to let the ice show on his face. He raised an eyebrow, “Did they?”

His mind swam to James first, then, painfully, to Remus. He saw him in chains in his mind and blinked desperately at the images, willing them away.

“Yes, a servant. One of the kitchen boys I think. It doesn’t matter, I can’t tell them apart. Filthy and foul as they are.”

 _No_. Sirius gasped as he barely dodged another blow from the knife. The tip grazed his side, tearing a small hole in his shirt.

“Hm, getting slower, I see.”

Sirius could barely breathe. He had to get down there, had to make sure Remus was okay. He inhaled sharply through his nose, chest heaving, “And then what?” He gasped, “Then what? After I’m dead. The power doesn’t go to you, it goes to-“

Bellatrix laughed, “I don’t _need_ the power to go to _me_.” She twirled the knife in her hands, as if testing her next strike pattern, “You aren’t as close to your little brother as you once were, are you, Sirius? You forget—he’s on _our_ side now.”

And there it was. All Sirius needed. 

_He’s on our side now._

He thought to the lake, Regulus at his side. Had that really been such a short time ago? He saw himself so clearly sitting next to his brother, and his words,

_Do you know you’re the only person I care about?_

He straightened his back, hands dropping their defensive posture, shoulders dropping, “Your side…” He could have laughed.

Bellatrix laughed, “That’s right. Amazing, isn’t it? The power you gain when you have someone on the other side to trust.”

Then the laugh turned into a snarl, and she lunged. But Sirius was ready, expecting it. He had newly found hope. He grabbed her wrist and twisted, letting her let out one shriek before he slid his hand into hers, around the dagger, and brought it sharply against her temple. She fell silent and to the ground in one motion.

He spun the dagger in his hand, sticking it in the back of his belt, out of view.

“Yes,” he grinned down at her unmoving form, “Quite amazing.”

~

“Finally.” His mother snarled, “Didn’t I tell you to come immediately? Or did I not give you enough incentive.”

Sirius had never been aware of so many eyes on him as he entered the hall, but he stared his mother straight on. He didn’t have time for an argument, he needed to get her attention off of him so he could find Remus. He walked obediently to her side, “My apologies.”

His mother seemed to be aware of the staring eyes too, because she brought a hand around his neck, and her voice feigned softness, “Quite alright, son.” The words sounded more than strange coming out of her mouth. None of the servants could see the nails digging in and re-opening the old, crescent shaped scars on his neck. Sirius didn’t dare wince.

“After all,” his mother continued, “it seems that you are in debt of some sympathy as well. The kingdom was not the only one who was stollen from.”

Sirius stopped his subtle search of the crowd in favor of looking at his mother, “No?”

“Of course, the crown is the priority. But you seemed to be the frequented practice target. Bring the thief forward!”

His heart was like a drumroll in his ears as Sirius’ eyes shifted to the moving forward guards. Two of them parted for two more. Two more that each had a tight grip on the arms of an achingly familiar thin frame, jerking it forward: Remus. Sirius felt his throat close up.

Remus raised his eyes from the ground to his. They were wide, and pleading, and Sirius thought that he would die right on the spot from just that look alone. He very nearly stepped forward, to reach for Remus, but he stopped himself. The hand still digging into his neck stopped him.

He didn’t even feel it when his mothers nails pulled out of his skin. He only felt Remus’ gaze, and the unyielding need to take him away from this place.

He cleared his throat, needing, praying for his voice to come out strong, “He- He doesn’t look like a thief.”

His mother scoffed, “All the more reason to steal! Perhaps that was why he needed you.”

Sirius blinked, still unable to tear his eyes from Remus. He hoped his face was blank, “Me…”

His mother waved at the guards from the corner of his eyes, her long, black sleeves swishing, “Show him.”

Only then did he register Snape, head of the watch, stepping forward, “Your majesty.” He bowed deeply to Sirius, then raised his hands, one object in each, “The crown has yet to be located but we found these in the thief's room. I believe at least one belongs to you.”

Remus’ eyes changed a little, a change he caught before he looked away. His head shook almost minutely, and his eyes calmed. And Sirius looked at the objects. Bile rose in his throat. And he understood Remus’ look.

_This isn’t your fault._

His shoes. His ring. He had provided the very proof that was needed-

_This isn’t your fault._

Snape’s voice broke through his thoughts, “We believe that he used these smaller thefts-“

Sirius held up his hand, “I understand.” His voice rang clear. He didn’t know how. His lungs burned from lack of breath.

For a moment the hall was quiet. He knew they were waiting for him to speak, for him to get angry. He felt none of that. Only the same urge to grab Remus and run.

He felt his mother’s hand on his neck again, “Well? Take him away! He’ll spend the night in the dungeons. Take him to be hung at dawn.”

Sirius’ knees threatened to buckle and he shook his mother’s hand off. His breathing was ragged, muscles tensed in an effort to keep himself standing.

“Please, _no_ -“

Sirius’ head whipped up. For a moment, he thought he had said it, but then he saw Remus’ mouth parted in surprise, a sob ripping up his throat. And then Sirius did want to yell.

_No. Don’t say anything. You know I’ll get you out of here. You know I’d never let this happen to you._

He tried to catch Remus’ eye and say it that way instead. but Remus was already looking down, lips clamped tight.

“How-“ Sirius’ mother was gone from his side in a flash, looming over Remus who had never looked so small, “How _dare_ you speak. You filthy, _greedy thing-“_

Her words cut off with a slap and a sharp cry from Remus. And Sirius couldn’t help it. He had already taken four steps forward before something stopped him. Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, but not painful. He looked to his side, barely able to breathe. Regulus’ dark, somber eyes stared back at him. Their message was clear.

_Don’t._

“Take him away.” His mother’s voice was shrill and she spun away from Remus.

Their eyes met. Gray against hazel. Sirius’ breath caught. Regulus’ hand tightened on his shoulder.

Remus’ cheek was sliced across his cheekbone, face wet with blood. It dripped from his jaw. The guards half dragged him out of the hall, doors slamming with a sound of finality behind them.


	13. part xiii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! I can't believe it!! Thank you guys for your never ending patience, I know this took SO SO long. But here it is, and I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for reading, and for your amazing comments they mean the WORLD to me. Enjoy!!! You guys are the best!

There were red fingerprints on the bars of the cell, left behind and smeared from Remus’ tight grip on them. He had sat, crouched in front of them for the first hours of his time in the cell until the guards had kicked him back. He had only been looking, waiting, trying to distract himself from the insistent pounding in his chest. Now he sat stiff, spine aching as it dug into the cold, stone wall. His lips moved silently, eyes closed. His cheek ached, and fresh blood still stung the open wound now and then.

_Wherever you are, I’ll find you._

Sirius’ words. He repeated them over and over again, hearing them in his mind, tasting them on his tongue, overpowering the tang of blood.

He was quite alone. There were no guards jeering. They stood silently outside the dungeon doors, having bolted them shut as they exited. All he could hear was his own breathing, and the drip of something wet down the walls. Strangely, it wasn’t the looming threat of his own death that was bothering him the most. He could be dead by morning—how many hours was that? How many hours left in his life? He cared. It _mattered_. It did. But what hurt, what was killing him inside, was the last look he’d seen on Sirius’ face. Self-blame had been written in ever feature. If he died now, who would wipe that look away? No one would succeed. He knew Sirius well enough to be sure of that.

Remus could see it against his eyelids. He saw that look, and then he saw Sirius’ smile from just earlier that morning. It was almost like a taunt from his own mind. Such tragedy had struck so quickly that he could hardly keep up.

Remus opened his eyes and sighed, watching lazily as water dripped down the wall from some unknown source. He wasn’t sure when he’d become so hopeless. Maybe it was the blood, drying on his jaw and cheek, reminding him of what was to come. Maybe it was the isolation.

Maybe it was the fact that he had been right. Even when more than _anything_ he had hoped to be wrong. He had been right. Here he was in his cell, approaching death for love. Down in the dungeons. And there Sirius was, up there, not in a cell, but Remus knew that he might as well have been dying too, trapped too, even if not physically. Death for love. He wondered if Sirius had a myth about that. Or maybe Mrs. Potter.

The wetness darkened the stone in its wake, and Remus squinted at it, tilting his head at the pinkish hue it left on the stone. He held his breath. It could be rust, from the metal piping on the ceiling. Not that the rainfall had been particularly heavy. It could be blood. Remus looked up but, despite the daylight, the ceiling looked black. He could only just make out the serpent seal of the Black household carved in high relief there, like a devils trap above him, meant to keep him in. The serpent curled around the large _B_ , seeming to slither away from its stone boundaries, glaring at him.

_Wherever you are, I’ll find you._

Remus swallowed thickly, staring into the gem-like, glittering eyes of the snake. Sirius might find him. That wasn’t to say he’d be alive when he did.

~

“Don’t say anything.”

Sirius barely heard Regulus growl into his ear. He could barely feel his fingers digging into his bicep, dragging him through the dispersing crowd in the hall.

“ _Move_ , Sirius.”

Sirius hadn’t realized he’d been stumbling.

There was a sudden bang of doors closing behind them and the voices cut off so quickly that Sirius almost thought his hearing had gone mute. Then his back hit cold, stone wall and he blinked. Regulus’ dark eyes swam into view.

“Sirius, you have to pull yourself together.” His brother’s face was tense, teeth clenched, “ _Do it_ , or do I have to fucking hit you too?”

Sirius blinked at that, eyes focusing so sharply that his head throbbed.

Regulus pressed his lips together, shaking his head shortly, “I didn’t mean that. I…”

Sirius blinked, the cold stone pushing his senses back together in his mind, “I don’t care.” The feeling returned to his limbs sharply, spiking needles into his blood, “ I don’t care. We can’t just stand here, Remus, he-“ Sirius closed his eyes, trying to swim past the panic racing through his veins, “We know where he is. We have the authority to distract the guards. We- _fuck_ , she hit him.” Sirius pushed off the cool stone, walking quickly towards the stairs, “She hit him, Reg. Right in front of me.”

Regulus didn't miss a beat and fell into step beside him, “I don’t believe she thought you'd care.”

“ _No_.” Sirius stopped, hand gripping Regulus’ shoulder, “It isn’t…” He wet his lips, words tumbling over each other, “He can’t be touched. I can’t stand it if…”

Regulus looked, to Sirius’ surprise, slightly startled. Maybe it was the urgency that he said it with, maybe it was the grip Sirius had on his arm. Regulus’ swallowed tightly, slumping a little, losing just a touch of his hard fought for composure.

“Why? Why do you care about him so much? What did he do?”

Sirius blinked. He hadn’t expected the question, “What…” He shook his head, “Nothing. He… There was nothing he had to _do_ to make me love him. I just… do. I just do.”

The morning sun was peaking through the stained glass now, throwing the hallway into a summery yellow glow. It felt too bright. Regulus’ eyes still managed to be dark, even with his cheeks speckled in light fragments. Maybe the contrast made them even darker still.

He nodded, “Okay.”

Then he was pushing off again, walking briskly down the hall. He had already turned again before Sirius had even made it to the first segment of stairs, quick in his wake. He knew that his little brother’s question had been more than that, a question. He just didn't have time to think about it right now.

The dungeon smelled as he remembered, even though he hadn’t been down in years. He could remember him and Regulus playing gladiators down here. The barred cells had made for excellent lion cages. It was the smell of rust and rot, dirt and water.

“That must be where his cell is, just through there.”

Sirius followed Regulus’ eyes to where they were boring into two half asleep guards leaning against the wall on either side of a iron, opaque door, boot toes up. Sirius sneered when he recognized the limp, greasy hair of one of them.

“Fuck. Snape.”

“Oh, lose the rivalry. You’re a prince, he doesn’t have power over you. Jesus.”

Sirius glanced at Regulus, slightly taken aback by the bold words. He really aught to stop being surprised by how much his little brother had grown.

Sirius shook it off, “Okay-”Both brothers straightened their posture in preparation, then looked at each other, recognizing the gesture’s similarity. They cleared their throats.

“Okay.” Sirius started again, “I need to be the one he sees first. If you get him out he’ll panic, he doesn’t know you know.”

“No, you need to be the ones to distract Snape and the others. They’ll listen to you.”

Sirius blinked, “They’ll listen to you too.”

“Possibly, but I’m not going to be king, am I?”

Sirius felt a sinking in his chest that Regulus was right. They were of high status, but Sirius was higher.

Regulus pressed a hand to Sirius’ shoulder, “I’ll make sure Remus knows my true intentions as soon as possible. We just can’t risk being overheard. You make up some excuse to get the guards out of the room, then… then…”

Sirius pressed him onward, “Then?”

Regulus bit his lip, “Then meet us at the stables. I can get us there easily, no one will be watching the fields right now.”

“And the doors? There will be people watching the doors.”

Regulus’ frown turned upwards at one corner. It was the most amount of the arrogance that seemed to run in their bloodline that Sirius had ever seen from him, “You and I both know we can get around doorways.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows, “The portrait passage.”

“The portrait passage.” Regulus confirmed, voice hoarse from their rapid whispers.

Sirius nodded, but as Regulus went to turn the way they came, hiding from view until the doors were clear, Sirius gripped his wrist. Regulus looked back with steady eyes.

“You’ll-“ Sirius’ voice wavered, “You’ll get him out? If something- If I don’t-“

“Don’t.” Regulus said harshly, eyes widening. “Don’t. _You’ll_ get him out.” Regulus nodded towards the doors, “Go.”

~

Remus looked up at the muffled voices that suddenly arose outside the door. He pushed himself up off the floor, the pads of his fingers scraping uncomfortably against the gritty stones of the floor. He’d never felt so completely covered in dust and grime. At first, the sounds were indistinguishable, and then, just as suddenly, his heart was in his throat as he registered the familiar, deep, posh drawl coming through the stone walls.

He didn’t need to hear the words anymore, the presence of the tones coming through the stones was enough. He was here. Remus leaned his forehead against the rusting bars of his cell, heart beating out of time with his breathing. Fear battled with hopeful relief and it hurt. His chest ached with how close to the threshold of freedom they always seemed to get. He didn’t trust it anymore.

He didn’t hear sound for a few long beats after that. He swallowed thickly, eyes darting around the room, to the large door, fingers flaking the dried blood from the bars with their grip. Then there was the scrape of keys in the lock. Remus pressed up onto his toes in anticipation, fingers just barely reaching through the bars, outward, only to shrink back at who broke through the doors.

Regulus’ hands were held up immediately, submissively in front of him, almost warding Remus off or physically marking the distance between them.

“Don’t say anything.” He said. Remus realized that he’d barely ever heard Sirius’ younger brother’s voice. It was smooth and subtle, subdued like it was just realizing now that it was okay to come out, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you.” The words were out of Remus’ mouth before he knew he wanted to say them.

Regulus scowled, “Yes, I’ve already _realized_ that, thank you-“

A pang went through Remus’ chest at how similar the sarcasm was to Sirius’. He pushed it down, “I know your business with the Lestranges. I was there at the dinner when you and the queen- I know-“

“And I,” Regulus cut in sharply, voice mocking and slow, “was there at the dinner when you were wearing my big brother’s _fancy_ family ring.”

Remus found he’d lost his voice momentarily at that.

Regulus’ dark eyes bore into him, “And I know you didn’t steal it.” He added quieter.

Remus’ heart leaped back into his throat, his fingers tightened around the bars until the rust there was sure to leave reddish smears on his skin. _How?_ He couldn’t have known he didn’t steal it without knowing…

Regulus seemed to be trying to soften his stance, his eyes, but it wasn’t quite working. His shoulders held too much tension in them. He looked just as nervous as Remus felt, “I know and… and I’m still not going to hurt you, alright? I’m just going to take you somewhere.”

Remus’ eyes flicked back towards him at that, “No. Do it here.”

Regulus’ eyes flickered with momentary confusion and he stopped his slow walk forward, “What?”

Remus leaned forward, the bar pressing into his temple, “Do it now.”

Regulus straightened, hands dropping to his sides. His lips were parted, “Do…” He shook his head against the understanding of what Remus was saying, “No, you don’t und-“

“I can’t be with him.” Remus felt something wet against his cheek and he didn’t know if it was blood or not, “I could never have been with him. I see that now. And… And I can’t be here while he’s with someone else. I have no where else to go.” Remus gripped the bars harder still, pleading, “I don’t want to wait until morning, I can’t stand it.” Then, quieter, desperate, “Do it now…”

_The memories are too much._

Regulus stared at him, feet stopped in his movement forward. He looked stunned, his mouth a tight line that reminded Remus of the way Sirius’ got when something was bothering him. Then he was stepping forward and yanking the keys from their hook by the cell door. He regarded Regulus with a level gaze, “You’d die for that? You’d rather face death than a life without him?”

Remus’ eyes were fixed lazily on the floor, staring but not seeing, “You don’t have to understand for it to be true.”

“I never say I didn’t understand.” Regulus sighed, jamming the rusty keys into the cell lock, “I was just… asking. Dedication like that isn’t exactly in excess around here. Come on.”

Remus looked up at him. The look on his face stirred more emotion in his chest than Regulus wanted to admit, with dirt and blood smeared on his cheeks, “Where-“

“To him.” Regulus cut him off, wrapping his fingers around Remus’ bony forearm and pulled him to his feet, “Honestly. You love him that much and you really thought he’d let you stay down here?”

~

Rain clouds had blocked out all traces of the summer sun around the stables, but the heat remained; it was a humid and muddy, and Remus watched the way the wet earth pulled at his shoes as he followed Regulus around the backside of the barns, wet heat steaming off the wood. The barns looked like they had seen better days. The Black household wasn’t really one for riding, Remus guessed. The paint was chipping, the stone walls coming apart. The decor didn’t match the vastness of them. Rows of stables made a U around the main barn, topped with a hay stack and small granary storage unit. Regulus opened a back door of the large barn, lifting the heavy latch for him and standing aside, letting Remus out of the rain first.

“Where is he?” Remus pushed his curling hair out of his eyes. The rain was heavy, but it had succeeded in washing most of the blood from his face and the gash on his cheek, “Is he-“

“Should be through there.” Regulus nodded in the direction of a lit doorway, away from the horse stalls. Remus pressed his hand to the doorframe as he stepped through, suddenly nervous, for some reason, that Sirius wouldn’t actually be there. The thought made him freeze in his tracks. He could see rain at the edge of the barn roof, falling down in larger drops where it gathered and ran off. It splattered the mud and made the horses stomp their feet in their stalls. 

He took another step out of the barn, looking up when the rain pounded on the tin awning above him. It was slightly soothing, and for a moment he felt he was in a bubble of sound. He closed his eyes, letting the sound overtake the ache in his cheek, letting it release some of the tightness in his chest. He let something else, something other than the pain of the last hours, maybe even the last months, consume him, let it drum out his worries, _please be here, be waiting for me._

“Fuck. _Fuck_ , thank god-”

A deep voice pulled him from the brief lull and suddenly he was enveloped in familiar arms. His eyes flew open to find he was looking over a broad shoulder, mouth tasting the cotton of a rain-soaked shirt. There were strong fingers in his hair and warm breath against his neck, saying his name. All of this overtook the rain. And he let it. He gripped back, letting out a long, shaking breath. He opened his lips against the shirt until he found rainy skin instead and held there, holding himself against Sirius’ body. Even the splattering tin roof melted away.

“Are you okay?”

He hadn’t actually heard Sirius say it until he’d said it three times already. He was too busy catching up, reeling in the fact that he was here again, in a place that he’d tried to close himself off from so quickly, just so as to not get hurt.

“Remus,” Sirius pulled back, and his gray eyes swam into view, his warm palms held his cheeks, flushed and slippery from the summer rain storm, “God… Look what she did.”

Remus had forgotten all about the gash. He wanted to be kissed.

Sirius avoided the spot carefully as his thumbs stroked over Remus’ cheeks, eyes raking over the raw skin, “Does it hurt?”

Remus just shook his head, putting his hands over Sirius’, “No. Not anymore.”

Sirius swallowed hard, eyebrows drawing minutely together, maybe at the sound of Remus’ voice after, maybe, not thinking he’d hear it again, “The rain must have stung a bit.”

Remus twisted his wrists to curl his fingers into Sirius’ and lace them together, pressing forward on his toes until Sirius backed up some, out from under the protection of the roof. The rain washed over them in big droplets. Sirius blinked a little, mouth curving upwards at the corners. He shook his head, not understanding but smiling anyway.

And Remus leaned up and kissed him, mouth hot like the sun, “At least we’re in the rain.”

Sirius smiled down at him, seeming to mouth a few incomprehensible murmurs of agreement and then leaned in, as if to kiss him again, before the clearing of a throat made them look back towards the barn.

Regulus was standing there, so close to the edge of the roof that his boot toes were getting wet. He didn’t look uncomfortable, just serious, hand resting idly on his sword, “The carriage is ready. Well, if you can call it that…”

Remus followed where his eyes had looked and saw an old man, the horse groomer most likely, sitting at the front of a hay wagon, brimmed farmer’s hat drooping in the rain. There was a blanket half thrown over the hay stacks, waiting and open.

“Are you ready to be smuggled out?” Sirius’ voice was filled with humor in his ear, trying not to laugh.

Remus looked back up at him, squeezing his hand. He suddenly felt a suffocating sense of urgency, like they were so close and it was about to be too late, “Let’s go. Quickly.”

Sirius nodded, leaning forward to brush a soft kiss to the crown of his head, “Let’s go.”

Remus made a move forward, not dropping Sirius’ hands, and was surprised when he was met with some resistance. He looked back, alarmed.

Sirius sent him a soft smile to ease his expression, “It’s alright. You go get settled. I…” He looked towards Regulus, then back to Remus.

Remus didn’t need him to explain, and let their hands drop, moving towards the back of the cart.

Sirius watched him slip beneath the blanket and out of sight before he turned back towards the barn, feet squelching in the mud that was quickly accumulating. He ducked back under the roof, shaking the rain out of his hair. He laughed when Regulus made a face, “You’ve always hated when I did that.”

“You’re like a dog. It’s…unbecoming.” He said it matter-of-factly, but Sirius could see the smile playing around his mouth. He looked away to try and hide it. Regulus had always done that.

Sirius opened his mouth to say as much when Regulus beat him to it, “You should go. They’ll come looking here soon enough. You know they will.”

Sirius looked back to the cart, and nodded, “Yes. I know. That’s why I’m here.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, “Waiting to say goodbye to mummy, are we?”

“What are you going to do, Reg?”

Regulus hesitated, looking up at his brother through dark, sure eyes, “About what?”

“Reg-“ Sirius sighed, “Mum—The crown… The Lestranges, this isn’t all just going to go away once me and Re are gone. What will they think? What will you say? They will _ask_ you, you’re my brother—“

“Are you sure? We haven’t been exactly _brotherly_ in quite a while.”

“Don’t play dumb.”

Regulus looked into the rain stubbornly, “Why not?”

“Because you _aren’t. Regulus_.” Sirius grabbed his arm, turning him towards him, “I have to go. But I won’t leave you here without—“

“Why are _you_ worried about _me_? They’ll fucking kill you if they find you out!”

Sirius ignored him, “Without protection—“

Regulus glared, “You’re the one who needs protection—“

“And you just _gave_ it too me.” Sirius shouted. They were both breathing hard, eyes narrowed and scared. Sirius swallowed hard, “Now let me give it to you. In any way I can.”

Regulus went to respond but came up short, blinking rapidly as if having realized something.

Sirius pushed him on, “What? What is it?”

“You…”

“What?”

Regulus swallowed thickly, eyes flicking over Sirius’ face, “To protect me, you…”

“What? _Tell me_ —“

“You have to die. You have to die, don’t you.”

Sirius froze. It was a shock, hearing those words come out of his brother’s mouth, but Sirius felt their truth in his chest. He nodded slowly, showing Regulus he understood, but pushed a hand through his hair, “If— You can’t just let me go—“

“They’ll never believe me.” Regulus nodded along.

“You won’t be allowed to ascend, we know they won’t listen to the law—“

But Regulus was already drawing his sword, the sound of metal on metal ringing mutely through the wet wood of the barn. He strode around Sirius without looking at him, and right to the pig pen. Sirius didn’t flinch at the loud squeal or the tang of blood that filled the air, but his hand went to his side instinctively, as if to block the sound from Remus’ ears. He glanced back to the cart and could only just make out Remus watching from beneath the safety of the blankets.

Regulus turned back around, speckles of red adorning the front of his shirt and jacket, frown set in place.”

“Well.” Sirius tilted his head, “At least we know you won’t have a problem looking grim.” Sirius felt triumphant at the surprised look on Regulus’ face, “I think you’ve had enough practice.”

Regulus looked at him, mouth slightly open in surprise. Blood was running from the sword, dripping on the toes of his boots. It was speckled along his neck and cheeks, and yet, Sirius still saw—perhaps for the first time in a long time—his little brother grin.

Sirius grinned back, and suddenly there were tears at the back of his throat but they were laughing, and then embracing. The moment was brief, and they quieted almost as suddenly as they had laughed, but it was there, and it was needed, and it felt _better_. Sirius held him at arms length, not embarrassed by the tremor in his voice,

“You’ll be okay? Really, though. I don’t just mean about the crown—“

“Oh, I’ll find the crown. I was on their _side_ ,” Regulus smirked, “remember?”

Sirius smiled back, worry still tight at the corners of his mouth, “And mother…”

Regulus huffed out a laugh, “Mother. She always did like me better, didn’t she? Especially now that she’ll think I’m cold blooded enough to kill by own brother to protect the crown. Maybe I’ll even tell her I _burned_ you out of spite. Better find some ash to smear on my face.”

Sirius choked out a watery laugh, “God.” He squeezed Regulus’ shoulders, “Looks like you should have been the older brother, yeah? You seem to have this whole protection thing down.”

Regulus’ face softened then, all traces of mirth disappearing, “No.” He shook his head, “No, I shouldn’t have.” He gripped Sirius’ hand under his, tight enough for both to know just how much they needed this last contact, “Who would I have learned it from, then?”

Sirius closed his eyes briefly at that, mind flashing back to those painful nights spent in the dark, hiding from the hand of their own mother. He took a deep breath, “Reg… You’ll make an outstanding king.”

Regulus’ mouth quirked up at the corner, “And you’ll make an outstanding… what are you off to be, a peasant boy?”

Sirius shoved him lightly, laughing tearfully, “Sod off.” He looked once again towards the cart, catching Remus’ dark eyes and flashing him a smile, “I dunno what I’ll be.”

“Happy.” Regulus nodded shortly, surly, “You’ll be happy.”

Sirius stared at him, then nodded slowly, “Yeah.” His chest hurt with how true it was, “Yeah, I will be. And you will too.”

Regulus laughed and turned away from him, swinging his bloodied sword in an arch and taking another stab at the bloodied pig, “Yes.” He turned, and the blood was more abundant on his shirt, more humanlike, “Eventually. When I make this kingdom a better place.” His eyebrows knit together slightly, “A place you don’t have to run from. That neither of you have to run from.”

Sirius could only nod, suddenly unable to speak. Regulus only lifted his hand, and Sirius started to walk away backwards, keeping his eyes on his little, brave brother. He turned to go, when he remembered.

“Reg.”

Regulus had not turned around yet, and had a funny expression on his face that he wiped away quickly, “Yes?”

“Say goodbye to James, will you? And… maybe train him up a bit. He’d be a good addition to your guard one day, I think.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, “So loyal.”

Sirius smiled, and Regulus smiled, and the two brothers turned away from each other, still smiling.

The space beneath the blanket was already warm from Remus’ body when Sirius slid into the cart beside him. He only just got comfortable when he felt it take off, rattling under their weight. Two hands were on his cheeks almost instantly and he was being kissed by warm, familiar lips.

Sirius smiled into it, “How’s this for a fairytale? The smuggled _getaway._ ”

Remus just shook his head, “I just… we’re out.” He looked up to where the blanket was tented over them, casting them in a soft, watery light. His eyes were bright, “We’re… We’re _us_. I mean, we’re just us.” He laughed, “We don’t have to be anything other than—“

“Together?” Sirius supplied.

Remus grinned and kissed him again, harder, letting the jostling of the cart press them together, “We made it.”

Sirius nodded, pushing his hands through the curls on Remus’ forehead, and pressing a kiss there, “We did.” He smiled, “And where to now?” He brushed their lips together, “Name anywhere, anything…”

Remus smiled into the kiss, “The world.”


End file.
